Magic, Innocence, and Growing Up Oh My
by InsanityOwl
Summary: Allen walker, escapee of the Vatican, Noah, traitor, and apparently a wizard if the letter and giant man are anything to go by. Harry Potter, kid dumped on his aunt's door, lives in a cupboard, and also apparently a wizard if letters and strange happenings have anything to do with it. So, how are these two kids supposed to save the world from death while growing up? Bad summary
1. Prologue

The streets were dark, too dark to see anything unless you had the eyesight of a cat, owl or something similar. A young barn owl sat atop an unlit streetlight, watching the curious people down below fuss over a small bundle. There was an old man, with a fluffy white beard that reached his waist, a middle aged woman, with a strict air about her, and a large burly man, about seven feet tall or so with the most scraggly hair the owl had seen. For a moment, it was tempted to search through the hair for anything to eat, but thought against it when the man's hand's were seen. They were large enough to easily crush the owl's body. _Let's avoid that, shall we?_ The owl thought to itself before inspecting the bundle in the old man's arms. A faint heartbeat could be heard, as the small being in the bundle rested quietly. The owl listened to the baby's breathing, as it was gently put on the ground. It ignored the fuss the woman was making to the old man, far more interested in the child. From its' perch, it could barely make out a faint scar in the shape of a lightening bolt on his head.

"Harry Potter…" The owl heard. _Harry Potter, huh?_ The owl thought to itself before flying off, having seen enough. _How interesting._ It could tell, the boy was to do great things. It flew off, towards the city. Maybe it could find some food in an alleyway, or something. As it flew around, it saw the worse parts of the city, where beggars and muggers lived in poverty. It didn't understand why those people didn't eat the rats and mice that surrounded them, but that meant more for the owl. Seeing a mouse, it flew down and caught one in its' talons. Once it found a nice perch, another broken streetlight, it began to eat, watching around itself for others that would steal its' prize or attack it. It saw a somewhat run down church nearby, with a small bag in front of the door. Swallowing the mouse, it flew over to inspect the bag. The owl could hear a heartbeat from inside, but it was curious why there was one in it. It reached the bag, an old bag, which was probably found on the side of the road originally. Finding an opening, it peered in and saw a brownish red haired baby. The child shivered as it was completely bare of any garments to keep itself warm. The baby was obviously abandoned, though the owl couldn't fathom why, until it saw the left arm. The arm was completely disfigured and looked as though someone had cut off his original one, replacing it with a failed disturbing attempt at one. Now the owl understood, the boy was not going to survive on his own. The owl debated about trying to save it from future suffering, but decided against it, as it could tell, the boy was also going to be important, just like that Potter boy. They were both going to do something drastic in the future, and it was hopefully for the best. The owl left the baby to sleep. _I wonder what the future holds for those two_ , it thinks to itself, disappearing into the night.

...

Had anyone looked outside the classroom windows, they would have seen a thin brown haired boy with round glasses too large for his face running from three larger built boys that had dark grins on their face. The brunette, Harry Potter, was running from his cousin and his friends who were planning to beat him up again. He ran faster, not wanting to get caught and deal with another beating. Once a day was enough, thank you very much. Harry saw a bunch of trash cans ahead of him at the corner of the school.

 _There! I can get away!_ He thought as he ran around and hid behind the cans, closing his eyes and hoping he wouldn't be noticed. As he sat, a breeze flew past from the direction the wall was supposed to be in. Confused, he opened his eyes and looked around. He was on a chimney.

He was on a _chimney!_

He grabbed the edges of the chimney with all his strength and looked ahead, terrified. _Maybe someone will hear me if I shout!_ I gasped.

"Can someone get me down from here? Please? Anyone?" He began shouting as loud as he could, looking around now in hopes someone would notice him. Luckily, it seems a teacher had had their window open and heard his cries for help. When they had found him, they told him to stay where he was while he got help. Now that he knew someone was coming, Harry looked back up at the sky so that he wouldn't see how high up he was. Eventually, some more teachers arrived with a ladder and climbed up before helping him down. As soon as he was safe on the ground, he was whisked off to the principal's office.

"How did you get up there? Don't you know it's dangerous?" The principle interrogated the small boy before his aunt and uncle arrived.

"I swear! I don't know how I got up there! I was just trying to get away from Dudley and his friends, honest!" The small boy felt like crying, but he knew that there was no point. No one would believe him, no matter what he did.

He was sent outside as Mr. and Mrs. Dursley arrived. They frowned at him as they passed, before entering the room and talking. They stayed in the room for what seemed like hours to Harry, but was really only minutes. The door opened again and Harry looked at his two guardians with tears in his eyes as they glared down at him.

"Into the car, _brat!_ "

After a painful car ride for Harry, who had to stay quiet as his cousin Dudley beat him, Harry was once more shoved into the cupboard under the stairs. For the rest of the day and night, Harry sat in the dark cupboard, without food, and wondering, _how on earth did he get on that chimney?_

…

Snow fell softly to the ground, freezing a small brown-haired boy as he sat on the sparsely grassed hill. Glassy-eyed, he started at the grave in front of him. Silently, another tear fell from his eyes.

 _Mana..._

The face of a laughing clown flashed before his eyes, before a new stream of tears ran down his cheeks. The child continued to stare at the grave, numb to the cold snow drifting around him.

"Why hello young one~!"

The young boy raised his head to see who the helium filled voice belonged to. An enormous man with an inhuman grin stood behind the grave.

"Would you like me to bring back Mana Walker~?" the man(?) questioned. A spark of hope appeared in the boy's eyes. The man's smile widened. He stepped out from behind the grave -the boy watching his actions with a mix of fear, dread and hope- and created a black skeleton out of thin air. The skeleton had no hands or feet, and the only color visible was a purple star on its' forehead.

"Here's the body, but to truly bring him your dear Mana back from that wretched god, I need your help~!" the person (?) leered forward, making the boy flinch. "I need you, a person with a strong connection to the soul, to call him back!~"

The boy stared at the skeleton for a moment, hope and suspicion warring. Finally, he stepped forward, ignoring a familiar voice screaming for him not to do it.

"MANA!" the desperate shout escaped the boy's lips, cracking from disuse. The voice cried.

The being grinned maniacally as a flash of purple lightning struck the skeleton, it's sinister personality finally showing through.

"Allen?" A voice rasped out from the metallic maw of the skull as the skeleton began to disjointedly move. The young boy, Allen, let the first smile in days grace his face.

"Mana…" he whispered tearfully, finally able to hear the voice he had longed for.

"Allen… what have you DONE TO ME!?" The skeleton, Mana, screeched at Allen in fury. Allen flinched back, confused at the anger he had never seen in his foster father. "How dare you turn me into an Akuma, Allen Walker?"

"Akuma dearest!~ Kill this child and put on his skin." The Earl suddenly spoke up, starting what he felt was his favorite part.

Allen began to back away as the skeleton moved forward. "Allen… I curse you…" it grabbed hold of the terrified boy, "I curse you! Allen Walker!" It slashed down the left side of Allen's face, making it bleed profusely.

 _Mana, why? What did I do wrong? I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Mana!_ Allen thought to himself as the skeleton raised its' limbs for a finishing blow.

' _I'll save you.'_

A light flashed, and suddenly, Allen was on the ground, out of the skeleton's hold. A giant, silver claw had replaced his original deformed red limb, a brightly glowing green cross shining on the back of it. Allen looked around, wondering where the skeleton that was his father was. A couple of meters to his left, he saw it, only the upper half mostly intact and struggling to raise itself on its remaining two limbs.

The claw twitched.

Allen could only stare in horror as the limb came to life on its own. It kept twitching for a moment, before dragging Allen towards the skeleton. That was when Allen realized that it planned on killing Mana.

"Mana! Run!" he screamed as he was pulled towards the broken body, tears flowing from his eyes. "Mana! Father, run!"

"Allen," the skeleton breathed as it stared at the despairing boy, claw stretched out to finally crush the skeleton, "I love you."

The young boy wailed into the night in the once more empty graveyard.

…

" _Do you want to be an exorcist?"_

 _-Prologue End-_

 **A/N Note**

Hehe, hi everyone! Not entirely sure what I'm doing here (somehow thought I'd be able to pull off a multi-chapter fic -.-") but I guess I'm posting this so, hope you guys like it! I know, not too much happened during the first chapter, but hey! It'll hopefully get better soon!... just a warning, I'm not very consistent with my updating so yeah... Hope you liked it and the disclaimer is on my page!

If you actually liked this, be thankful to my friend StarlightDragons. She actually got me to write and will also probably be the one to get me to update this thing...

Also, I know the summary was complete crap, you don't have to tell me, though if you have any ideas for a better one (almost anything is better honestly) then please pm me~!


	2. Chapter 1

**Note:** Allen currently has dirty blonde hair because he died it to hide from debt collectors. Sorry if that confuses you, but I seriously thought that he'd do that so he wouldn't get found as soon since they all think he's white or red haired. It's only really this chapter though, and for part of the time he's in the Black Order. Now on with the story~

 **-Chapter 1-**

The autumn sun shone down on the wet, cobbled streets of the town. It was a cool day, and there was a light breeze fluttering the leaves that littered the streets, making tiny whirlwinds of sound and color. A young boy with a small satchel strapped across his chest trudged down the streets, a gold ball with wings and a tail fluttering around his head. The boy let out a dejected sigh as he shoved his gloved hands into his pants pockets.

 _I'm lost again, aren't I?_ he felt imaginary tears fall down his face as he faced the prospect of wandering for the rest of his life, seeing how this was the fifth time he got lost thanks to his lack of directional sense. He gazed at the buildings around him and tried to get an idea of where he was. A paper blew across his path and he saw a London Times printed on the top. Well, that explained where he was, though he wasn't entirely sure _how_ exactly he had gotten on the island, but that could be sorted at a later date.

 _I'm going to the Black Order to become an exorcist, like Master trained me to be. If remember right, it's in France, which is mainland Europe, but nearby! I might be able to get there tomorrow!_ Upon this discovery, the boy felt as though a huge burden had been lifted from his shoulders. A smile made its way across his lips as he stood straighter and lost his gloomy disposition.

"Come on Tim! Let's go find a boat to France." The boy told the small gold ball, Timcampy, which nodded its head in reply.

A breeze blew past that ruffled his shocked white locks that had been dyed a dirty blonde and showed a scarred red pentagram on his left forehead that had a line that stretched down to his jaw and had two sharp bends under his eye. He walked down the street with a hop in his step, as his mercury grey eyes gazed at the buildings around him calculating and noting all the small details of his surroundings. The young boy with the appearance of a six year old with surprisingly formal clothing of a white long sleeved button-up, a black vest and pants along with a red ribbon tied around his neck, was Allen Walker, age approximately nine.

Allen continued down the street when he noticed that the sky was beginning to tinge with red and orange. Looking around, he saw an abandoned church which had some large chunks missing from it. The shape of some of the holes though, was familiar to Allen. He cautiously approached the church and inspected one of the holes near the door, a sense of uneasiness overcoming him. Leaning close to a hole, he was able to make out in the fading light that there were small black stars, very similar to how his pentagram appeared. With a sense of grim certainty, he began to head into the church, when a cry of terror echoed out. Instantly forgetting all previous caution, he sprinted inside. Occasionally, he would pause at a break in the corridor, before continuing down whichever he could hear sounds from. Eventually, he heard the sounds of loud talking and shouting, causing him to slow down as one of them didn't seem too panicked. Silently, he edged towards the corner and peaked around it to see who the duo bickering was.

Both appeared to be police on duty, if their uniform had anything to do with their occupation (Allen had, after all, run into people and practiced himself pretending to be of a certain occupation to get what was wanted, often information). One was a slim woman who had captured all of her hair in her helmet and was lecturing a much larger man who was trembling in his boots as he stood in front of her. Allen couldn't quite tell if the man was scared of her, or of something he has yet to find out about. The woman cut off on her ranting however, when a loose stone fell from where Allen's hand had incidentally brushed it.

"Who's there?" Her voice was firm as she called out, ignoring her partner who was currently hiding behind her. Allen debated the pros and cons of stepping out, and decided that stepping out would be more in his favor. After all, if a cop sees you running from them, they're going to know you did something wrong and give chase. Allen stepped around the corner he had hid behind, and stayed where he was, making no move to close the gap between him and the police. As the two regarded him and studied his appearance, he took note of how silly their situation was. A large man that looked like he could easily break a few bones was hiding behind a young woman who looked as though she had just found a puppy pretending to be a ghost, both staring at a possibly six year old boy. A very amusing site that Allen would have laughed at had he not been partaking in this scene.

"What are you doing here boy?" The woman began interrogating. "Haven't you heard about the rumors and disappearances? It's dangerous here!"

"No. I was just looking for a place to sleep for the night." Allen fibbed and indicated the orange sky that was turning redder by the second, more focused on what she said about the disappearances. "What do you mean, disappearances?"

"Travelers who stay here for the night go missing, only their clothes left behind." A grim look was set on her face as her eyes shone with determination behind her glasses.

"Th-this place is hau-haunted! I-I'm telling y-you, Moa! I-i-it's haunted and we're gonna get attacked by a ghost!" the large man behind her stuttered out, before setting pleading eyes on Allen. "You believe me, don't you boy?"

"Ghosts?" Allen tilted his head in an innocent manner, looking every part the lost little boy he was. "Why would there be ghosts here? Did someone die?"

"The Pastor's wife died in this church a few months back. He's never been the same since, not to mention all these bad things began happening." The female officer, Moa, spoke up, a grim and despairing look on her face. "She was my sister. I still don't know how to get Brother Mark back on his feet…" she released a heavy sigh, before glaring at her partner, "And Charles! How many times do I have to tell you? This place is not cursed! Especially not by Clara! Someone's behind all this and we've got to stop them! And you! Little boy!" She swung around and glared Allen down, making him gulp and pray she wouldn't come over to hit him. "Go wait outside! You're not allowed to be in here and if you need a place to stay for the night, I'll let you stay over. Now LEAVE!" With a final shout and glare, she sent Allen running, pretending to leave the church like a good boy.

The duo bickered some more before they wandered down the halls some more. The man, Charles, continuously begged officer Moa to let them leave the church and not call upon themselves the wrath of the unknown, and officer Moa steadfastly ignored his pleas and continued on to find the culprit, neither noticing Allen who was tagging along to make sure neither died. Eventually, they reached a large room, which had many broken pews in it and some rubble laying around. The area appeared to have been where mass would once have been held, but most of the items left behind had been destroyed by something. The officers walked into the room, one looking for clues and the other too terrified to leave the first. Allen slowly walked in and began searching the room his way. His left eye blackened and red rings surrounded where the pupil once was, and he began glancing in all directions. He stayed hidden and kept searching until he saw an odd shape in the corner of his eye. Locking on to it, he saw a corpse chained to something on the other side of the windows and looking at the two policemen. Without a second thought, Allen rushed forward and pulled the glove off his left hand, revealing the hidden glowing green cross.

"Innocence, activate." He whispered. His arm glowed brightly for a moment, before it faded and revealed a large silver claw that was as long as his body. The two policemen had seen the glow and had turned around, missing the true danger which had just entered through an above window.

"Get down!" Allen lunged forward and covered the two just before the shooting occurred. Allen felt the bullets hit his arm dully; he also felt bullets pierce his back and shoulders. Falling to the ground, Allen bit back a whimper as he registered his fresh wounds, before ignoring it in favor of saving his and the two others lives.

"Oi kid! Are you alright?" Moa had rushed over and cautiously was bending over his arm and body to see the damage.

"'m fine." Allen grunted as he got up, "Just stay hidden so you don't get hit. If one bullet touches you, you're dead." Allen wobbled briefly as he stared at the akuma above them, before he launched dashing onto a pew and flying at a pillar. All of the canons focused on the small body as it ricochet and closed in on the main body of the akuma.

"Pitiful akuma, may your solve be saved." Allen whispered as he extended an arm and pierced the machine as it sent out a final barrage of bullets. Allen watched as the soul screamed for a moment, before the binding chains broke and the young priestess smiled gratefully at the young exorcist. "You can rest now, Miss Clara," Allen gave a peaceful smile as the spirit disappeared from the material world with a thankful tear. As he dropped to the ground, Allen belatedly realized that the virus had spread across his body and he was completely black. He winced as he dropped to a knee, grunting.

"Kid!" Officer Moa was running over when Allen noticed that the other one, Charles, was becoming covered in stars.

"No." Allen whispered as he watched the man also get covered and begin choking. Allen despaired as he watched the man crumble, a contradicting warm feeling filling him as the virus was removed by his innocence. "I'm sorry, I couldn't save you," Allen murmured, looking at the ash hat remained in the pile of clothing and feeling a warm trail on his right cheek.

"Charles?" Officer Moa had finally noticed the clothes and ash. "N-no, what happened? Charles?" Her frantic eyes turned back to Allen, who had grabbed her arm and began pulling her out of the church.

"We have to go. It's poisonous to breathe the air here." He handed her a handkerchief set his eyes ahead, accepting the loss easier than a boy his age should. Once they reached the outside of the church, Moa couldn't take it anymore and collapsed to her knees. "Miss! Are you okay?" Allen nervously fluttered by her side.

"What was that? And who _are_ you?" Her body was wracked with shaking as she stared the boy who glowed eerily in the moonlight.

"Ah," blank mercury eyes stared at her for a moment, before a humorless smile graced his face. "Allow me to introduce myself properly then, my name is Allen Walker. I am an exorcist." A shadow fell across his face, obscuring his eyes, but Moa would swear until the day she died, that an eerie red light appeared where his left eye should have been. The moment passed, and the innocent little boy was back, smiling gently. "That monster was what is known as an akuma."

"D-demon? There's no such things!" Moa couldn't accept it, no one would.

"It's not a demon," Allen looked a bit weary, as if he had explained this before countless times, "It's an akuma, a weapon from created from the powers of darkness. A pitiful creation of mass destruction."

"P-pitiful? That… That THING?" Moa almost felt as though she should be disgusted when she heard that.

"That is because you don't really understand," Allen didn't react to her outburst, obviously expecting it, "they do not wish to do what they do. They are souls trapped inside of a machine and are forced to kill by their creator."

Moa stopped and thought about his words. They were ridiculous and under any other circumstances, she wouldn't have believed him had she not seen what happened in front of her. "S-so what exactly _are_ they?"

"Basically an akuma is made of a machine, a soul and a tragedy. When a tragedy occurs, the darkness in the griever's soul is at its strongest and it calls the maker, who gives an irresistible offer. 'Do you want to bring them back from the dead?' irresistible, but a pact with the devil all the same." The boy wasn't looking at her, instead seemingly lost in a scene only he could see. "Once they agree, they are asked to call the name of whomever they want and the soul is entrapped into a metal skeleton. As soon as the soul is in the skeleton, the maker orders them to kill the human and use their body as a skin, thus creating an akuma." His eyes focused on Moa again. "Your sister who was a priestess here… she was married wasn't she."

It was a statement, one that Moa couldn't help but nod at.

"Did he change afterwards?"

"Yes. He doesn't talk or eat as much as he used to. I don't think he's been sleeping either…"

"He's dead."

The steady thump in Moa's chest seemed to stop at that. "Wh-what?"

"He brought back your sister. When he was mourning, the maker appeared before him. The fresher the grief, the deeper the darkness, the more irresistible the offer. I'm sorry, the man you knew probably died the night of the funeral." Forlorn mercury eyes gazed over at her prone figure.

"N-no, brother Marc…" tears streamed down her face as she realized what had happened.

"I'm sorry," Allen began to walk away, picking up his small bag.

"Where are you going?" Moa had noticed his retreat and grabbed his shoulder.

Allen yelped, "The hospital!" before jerking out of her reach and grabbing his shoulder, small tears forming in his eyes.

"The hospital?" Moa murmured before she thought back to the attack. The boy had turned black so he _had_ to have been hit, and looking at her hand there was a new stain on it. Grabbing the boy's arms, she saw that his top was torn and that there were long lines from the shooting, blood slowly dripping down. "OH MY GOD! GET IN THE CAR!" Picking up the small boy, she put him in the passenger seat of her police vehicle and got into the driver's side, driving fast and with her alarm lights on.

…

The birds chirped and a gentle breeze blew past a pair of opening glass doors. A young woman with mid back length brown hair walked out beside a little chin length dirty blonde haired boy.

"It's unfortunate that no one will believe you, but at least you're not a suspect." She spoke gently.

"Yeah, that was strange! I mean, sure I'm questionable, but arresting me as a suspect for murder? I'm like, nine! That's just plain wrong." The small boy complained in an animated fashion.

"Well, there wasn't really anyone else for the inspector to suspect, but at least everyone else pointed out how impossible that was and now you're free to go." She awkwardly replied.

"Thank you so much, officer Moa. I know that this all has been so hard for you, losing your brother and getting such a tough time from the inspector for helping me. Really, thank you so much!" The boy beamed and gave Moa a hug around her waist, seeing as that was only how high he could reach.

Moa gave a gentle, if slightly saddened, smile as she returned the hug. "No, thank you Allen. You not only saved my life, you also saved my sister and brother's souls, plus you helped me come to terms with it. Helping you out with the inspector was the least I could do." They stood in pleasant silence for a moment, before parting.

"Well, I guess I'll go." A sheepish smile formed on Allen's face as he rubbed the back of his head, "I've got to find a way off of this island, so I better head since it's been four days that I was stuck in that hospital."

Moa sighed, a smile tugging at her lips. "Really now, you act like it was prison. I hope you get to the Order safely Allen, be grateful I'm not sending someone to make sure you get there."

Allen laughed. "Thanks officer Moa, for everything." He turned and began walking down the street before looking over his shoulder with a wave, "Hopefully the next time we meet, it'll be in far better circumstances."

"Hopefully," Moa giggled, returning the wave. She watched the boy go down the street until he eventually turned and could no longer be seen. "Best of luck on your travels, Allen." She whispered, only breeze to catch the words.

Allen passed building after building, humming a small tune. During his stay at the hospital, Allen had learned of where he was exactly in England, and was pleasantly surprised to find that he was near a port that could easily reach France. Now the only thing he had left to do was get there without getting lost, and then he could be off of this island that he still didn't really know how he got on. Really. It was like, there was a blank space there. He really wanted to know how. Allen was pulled out of his thoughts when he felt a tugging in one of his vest pockets. Reaching in, Allen pulled out the small golden ball with wings.

"Ah, Tim! That's where you were!" He grinned at the golem who was shaking itself out and flapping around his head. "Ah!" He came to a realization, "Be careful Tim! I don't want you to get eaten by—" a blur passed at head height and the golem disappeared, "—a cat… Tim!" Allen began chasing down the feline who now had a long yellow tail dangling out of its mouth.

…

Harry wasn't having the best of days, though admittedly it wasn't actually the worst one he'd ever had in his short life. He had been given a list of errands to do by Aunt Petunia by the end of the day, and though some were on the other side of the town, they didn't seem too hard and he probably wouldn't be hit for being slow like he usually was at 'home'. Still, he had to rush to get to the tube before the train left and he'd have to wait for another thirty minutes. Seeing how long the list was, this would not be a good idea. So, making sure the bottoms of his too large pants were rolled up and wouldn't fall down, his shoes wouldn't fall off his feet nor would he trip on the laces, Harry began to run to the nearest station that he could get on the tube with. He double checked his pocket for the money that he'd been given to take care of, before nodding to himself and continuing, ignoring the cat that ran past. When he looked up though, he met with a body slightly smaller than his own. Both fell to the ground in an undistinguished heap.

"Oh! I'm so sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going!" Harry looked up at the blurry image of a blonde haired person before him, holding out a hand.

"No problem, I wasn't either." Harry took the hand and stood, before brushing himself off and checking the ground for his glasses. A hand held them out to him. "Ah, thank you." Harry took them and placed them on his eyes, finally get a good look at the littler boy in front of him. There was a really big red mark on the side of his face as he smiled sheepishly back.

"Really, sorry about that." Allen scratched the back of his head as he stared at the dark haired boy in front of him. A meow caught his ears and he saw the cat looking back at him. _I swear! It's_ smirking _at me!_ The annoyance switched to worry when he saw Tim's tail was no longer sticking out its mouth. "So sorry! But I really have to go!"

"It's alright, I'm sorry too." Harry spoke quietly as he watched the boy dash off and possibly chase the cat. _Why's he chasing a cat?_ Harry shrugged before checking the money in his pocket, thankfully all there, and then running off to catch a train. _Funny kid. Wonder why I feel like we'll meet again? Oh well._

 _Interesting boy, wonder why he's so interesting._ Allen mused to himself as he tried to get the cat to regurgitate Tim. _Whatever, I have more important things to do, like getting Tim out of this cat and finding a way off of this island that I somehow got on._

 **-End-**

 **A/N**

Haha, sorry for such a late update (I totally blame the next chapter. It's taking forever DX ) Anyway, totally sorry for the kinda filler chapter... I only realized it was one until I had started on the next chapter sooo yeah. OOPS XD Anyway, I hope you don't mind me making Allen a blond in this bit because I personally think that if he had something that could dye his hair, he would. Not because he'd be ashamed, but to hide from debt collectors, that's why.

If any of you are still reading this (Which I'd be thuroughly surprised by) I want to say thank you for the reviews, favorites and follows! (Didn't think anyone would actually like this story...) And I also love the ideas that you guys have about it, but just to let you all know, I decided to mess with the timeline because I wanted Allen and Harry to grow up together and deal with all the crap that comes with being a wizard, a chosen one (though Allen can be debated about, he still _was_ prophesiezed about), and growing up.

Thank you for reading this, I hope it'll get better!


	3. Chapter 2

Sorry for the wait, but hey, at least it's long! So here it is~!

 **Chpt 2 – Start**

Harry looked through the car windshield, giddy as he possibly could be without incurring Dudley or his friend Piers' annoyance, which would inevitably lead to a game of 'Who-could-hit-Harry-harder?' Something Harry would be most happy to not go through today. After all, it's the first time he's going to the zoo! Even if no one else wanted him here, doesn't mean he can't have fun.

"We're here!" Aunt Petunia crowed. Immediately, Dudley and Piers both got out of the car, making sure to hit Harry as hard as they could with their elbows. Harry got out of the car slowly, fixing his glasses so they weren't falling off as much. As soon as he placed a foot in the parking lot, Uncle Vernon pulled him aside while Aunt Petunia began leading the other two boys to the gates.

"No funny business, you got that boy?" He threatened, a pudgy finger so close to Harry's face that he was sure he would accidentally get poked by it. "Anything funny, and you'll be wishing we weren't so gracious to bring you with us."

 _Because you most_ certainly _hadn't thought of dumping me with other people before you had to give up._ Harry kept the thought to himself as he mumbled back an affirmative. Vernon looked at Harry, like he didn't believe him, before grumbling off and going to where his Petunia and Dudley were waiting. Harry shuffled behind them, careful not to get in Dudley or Piers' way when they were looking at different animals. At one point, they stopped looking at animals and instead decided to get a lovely frozen treat for a hot day. No one asked Harry what he wanted of course. After all, it was a _privilege_ for him to be allowed to come. Apparently though, this was not an issue as Dudley didn't get enough crushed peanuts on top of his super Sunday, so Harry got to take that while Dudley got a new _better_ one. Not that Harry cared, this was the best day of his life! Even if Dudley and Piers would occasionally start hitting him when they got bored of the animals, it was still amazing. Eventually, Piers and Dudley had pestered Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon enough about it being too hot outside that they decided to go into the reptile house, even though Aunt Petunia seemed to be inching as close as she could to Uncle Vernon and away from everything else. It was kind of funny, since he looked like he wanted to do the same. Harry shook his head to keep himself from snickering. He watched as Piers and Dudley ran around, looking through the windows, shoving people aside, and banging on the glass to get the reptiles to move. Eventually, they stopped and stood in front of one floor to ceiling glass, glaring at whatever was inside.

"Dad! It's not moving! Make it move!" Dudley complained so loudly that Harry swore the entire building could hear him.

"Get up!" Uncle Vernon spoke strictly, rapping at the glass. He repeated this two more times, before turning to Piers and Dudley, the former looking very miffed while the latter looked like he might explode from not getting what he wanted. Vernon sighed nervously, "It seems to be too useless to move. Let's go see something else, I'm sure it'll be more entertaining than this thing." And with that, he gently nudged Dudley so they left the exhibit. Harry watched as Piers and Dudley huffed before storming off, sending one last glare at whatever was in there. Once they were far enough, Harry stepped towards the glass, determined to see what could piss off Dudley so much. Looking in, the first thing he noticed were the scales, shining in the artificial lights above. There were a blue so dark it was almost black, and were highlighted with almost a navy color. The scales travelled all over the wound up body, which seemed to be at least as wide as Harry could spread his arms. Harry couldn't imagine how large a snake could deal with being locked up in such a small space. Looking at the plaque, he saw it was a constrictor from Brazil.

"Sorry about that," Harry whispered, thinking back on his relative's actions, "they can be really loud sometimes…" Not expecting anything, Harry glanced at the Dursley's and co to make sure they didn't hear, before looking back at the snake. He blinked. The snake had turned to him, and it wasn't hiding its face anymore. "Are you… listening to me?" Harry leaned closer, both conspiratorially and cautious to not get caught seeming crazy. Harry blinked again when the snake nodded to him.

A snake.

Just nodded.

 _At him._

 _Yup, I must be going crazy,_ Harry thought to himself as his jaw felt like unhinging. The snake was still looking at him, so he guessed he might as well talk, it was, after all, the only living thing that would listen to him (not counting the plants, of course). "It says you're from Brazil, what's it like there?" The snake shook its' head, as if sad, before pointing to a plaque that Harry hadn't noticed before. BRED IN CAPTIVITY, he read silently. "Oh, so you've never actually been there." The snake shook its' head in agreement, "Did you ever meet your parents?" The snake shook its' head again, and Harry gave a small sympathetic smile. "Neither have I." A small moment of understanding passed between the two, and was abruptly destroyed when Harry was shoved over by a body three times his width.

"Mum! Dad! It's doing stuff now!" Dudley shouted as Piers kicked Harry another time before going to look at the snake.

Really, Harry probably should have expected something to happen when he got angry. _Something_ always happens when he feels some strong emotion, which was currently rage. He really didn't expect though, that the glass would suddenly disappear and that Dudley would fall into the exhibit, nor did he expect the snake to slither out of the enclosure and snap at Piers, making him run off screaming and maybe leaving an odd smell behind.

"Thanks," Harry murmured as the snake nodded back.

"No, thhhhhhhank yooouuu," it hissed back, before slithering out. Harry swore he heard a "Brazil here I come," as it left, leaving screaming visitors in its' wake. Harry looked at the exhibit again and saw Dudley standing up. Apparently, he had landed in the small pond that had been there for the snake to drink from and cool off in, so he was drenched from head to toe in somewhat dirty water. He reached forward, about to step out of the enclosure, when a glass wall stopped him. The glass was back, and Dudley was stuck on the wrong side of it. The whole scenario got even funnier when a miserable Piers had returned with Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon, the former of which began shrieking her head off and the latter began cursing so loudly the entire park could have heard. Harry couldn't help it, he really shouldn't have, but he really couldn't help the small smile that wormed its way across his face. It fled almost immediately though, when he felt a familiar burning glare on his skin. Uncle Vernon had noticed it, and he was _not_ pleased. _Well, it was fun while it lasted_ , Harry thought to himself as he prepared himself for a _long_ talking to when he got home.

The car ride to the house had been silent, neither the blanket wrapped shivering Dudley or the shame faced and clutching his pants Piers tried to do anything to Harry, which made it a bit more enjoyable for him. Once they got to the house however, was a different story. Aunt Petunia was immediately scurrying around, getting Dudley and Piers inside with the urgency of a paramedic with a dying charge. Uncle Vernon on the other hand, didn't even wait for Harry to get out of the car before grabbing him by the ear and jerking him along behind.

"Ow!" Harry said, cutting off his pained noises as he was shoved against the cupboard door.

"What did you do?" Vernon had shoved his face into Harry's, making him smell the fried chicken Vernon had ate for lunch.

"I don't know! One minute the glass was there and then the next it wasn't! It was like magic!" the moment the word left Harry's mouth, Vernon's paled before reddening and tinging itself purple. Harry remembered the fact that he had just said the taboo word when he felt his but hit his blankets in the cupboard, hard. The door was slammed shut and the small grill on the door was opened for Vernon to hiss;

" _Magic_ isn't real! No dinner tonight, and you won't eat until you admit to causing this ruckus."

It was then slammed shut and Harry was left in the dark.

...

Harry woke up to the thudding of Dudley's heavy footsteps above him. He turned on the single light bulb above him and rubbed his eyes, trying to get as much sleep out of them as possible. Putting on broken, tapped up wire rimmed glasses, he exited his cave and entered the pristine hallway. He slowly made his way to the kitchen and dining table, both eager and hungry for food, and sorrowful to have to deal with the company of his 'family' once more. He sighed, but didn't bother to straighten up as he neared the entrance, knowing that the Dursleys would probably be angrier if he acted confident. He slowly shuffled to the table and made himself a small bowl of cereal, ignoring Dudley on the other side of the table who was stuffing his face with eggs and bacon with a practiced ease, and being ignored in turn by the other members of the household. Before he could pour his milk, the sound of the mail slot opening could be heard.

"Dudley, go get the mail." Uncle Vernon didn't even look up from his paper as he spoke.

"Me? I'm eating! Make Harry do it!" Dudley protested.

"Harry, go get the paper," Uncle Vernon didn't even look up. Harry wanted to protest, or at least glare at Dudley, but he knew that it'd only make things worse for him. Dudley would start blubbering like an idiot and acting like Harry had just tried to kill him if he tried. With a sigh and a final glance at his cereal, which now had milk and was begging to be eaten, he left the table after a short "Go boy" and a quick dodge of Dudley's 'lovely' Smelting's stick (more like 'whack-a-Harry' stick).

He shuffled over to the front door, aiming for the small pile of letters at its base. He picked them up and idly began to look through them, not really expecting to find anything for him. He didn't have any friends or anything that would send him a letter. Which is why, he would understandably be extremely shocked to see he _had_ in fact, received one.

 ** _Mr. H Potter_**

 ** _The Cupboard under the Stairs_**

 ** _4 Privet Drive_**

 ** _Little Whinging_**

 ** _Surrey_**

Well, let's go over what we know. It says Harry Potter on it, and that is in fact our dear boy's name. It says Cupboard under the Stairs, and yup, that's where Harry sleeps. What's the street outside again? Oh right, it's Privet Drive and oh look, this is house four. Well, looks like that letter is in fact at the correct location… now, why was it addressed to Harry? _Might as well read and find out_ , Harry mused as he inspected the letter. The envelope was a very thick, yellowed paper, it had an almost an old or ancient feeling to it. There wasn't a stamp on it, and the address had been written in a green ink that had a sort of flourish to it. Harry flipped it over, trembling from excitement since honestly, this was the most interesting thing to happen to him other than those random bits of… something! There was a purple was seal on the back of it, Harry trailed his finger over the pressed emblem, a letter 'H' with a badger, a snake, a raven, and a griffin.

"Hurry up boy!" Uncle Vernon snapped Harry out of his moment. He missed whatever Vernon said next since he stopped paying attention, but apparently it had been some joke since Vernon was laughing about something. Harry went back to the table and handed Vernon the two other letters, a post card from Aunt Marge and probably a bill, before sitting in front of his now soggy cereal and opening the envelope. The paper inside was the same yellowish as the envelope, and Harry pulled it out carefully, almost scared it was going to rip just from being pulled out. He heard Dudley shout about something, but really, it was probably a demand for more bacon from Aunt Petunia. Right as he was about to open the paper and read _his_ (it really was for him!) letter, it was suddenly ripped from his hands.

"Hey! That's mine!" Harry protested as Vernon held the paper in his pudgy hand mockingly.

"Who'd be writing to you?" He sneered back, before opening the letter for himself and reading it. Honestly, had this been about something else and not Harry's letter then he might have found it funny how fast Uncle Vernon's face changed color, from an interesting purple (puce maybe?) to red, then a sort of green (like he wanted to vomit almost), then it just seemed to give up on choosing a color and instead went as white as it could. Harry really would have found this funny, if, once again, it was not _his letter_ causing this reaction. _Really, what could be so bad that Uncle Vernon would react like that_? Harry thought as he tried to snatch it out of Vernon's hands.

"P-P-Petunia!" Vernon spluttered, shoving the letter at Aunt Petunia, who gasped and looked like she'd seen a ghost.

"Th-th-this means!"

"Give it back! It's _mine!_ " while Harry had not had it long, he most certainly wanted it since it was definitely not every day that he received a letter.

"I want to see that letter." Dudley demanded.

"I want to read that letter," Harry glared at Dudley, "since it's _mine_."

"Both of you, leave the room." Vernon looked like he was trying to calm down.

"I want to see that letter!" Dudley, who wasn't used to being ignored, tapped Vernon with his Smelting's stick.

"I want MY letter!" Harry stood up and tried jumping for the letter.

"BOTH OF YOU, OUT!" Vernon exploded, grabbing Harry and Dudley by the scruff of the neck and throwing them out.

After a quick scuffle, the two boys were able to get an ear to either the doorknob (Dudley) or the crack under the door (Harry). Neither could tell what was going on, only that the letter meant _something_. Andy by god, Harry was going to find out what, just wait.

…

The following days were quite odd for Harry and Dudley. First off, Uncle Vernon had visited Harry in his cupboard the night of the first letter, which _never_ happens, and then told him to pack up and move his stuff into Dudley's second bedroom! Dudley, of course, complained and cried over it, but strangely, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia ignored him. Heck, Uncle Vernon even told Dudley to shut up! If that wasn't weird, then maybe the letter, once again addressed to _him_ (not Vernon Dursley), which had arrived the next morning with a change in address to instead be his new bedroom than the cupboard was. _How'd they know I changed rooms?_ Harry had thought. He'd also thought he'd been sneaky enough to keep Uncle Vernon from seeing it, but apparently not since it had met its similar end in the fire pit. The next day, Harry was determined to get the letter by waiting outside for the postman. Unfortunately, Uncle Vernon had seemed to think similarly and had camped out the night at the base of the door, which Harry found out after an accidental step on his face. After a half hour of being shouted at and having to make tea, the letters arrived and Harry watched them be torn apart. Uncle Vernon seemed to have begun losing his mind after the first letter, seeing as the rest of the day, he nailed the post slot closed. The next day when the letters were pushed under and through the sides of the door, backdoor included, Uncle Vernon threw them in the fire pit and began boarding up all of the cracks in the front and back door. The next day, whoever had sent the letters had somehow (as if magically) managed to fill all the eggs in the carton that the (very confused and rightfully so) milkman gave Aunt Petunia in the morning with them. Two dozen letters were put in the blender that morning. Finally, Sunday morning, Uncle Vernon seemed to snap. At first, he'd seemed almost happy, even if he still looked a little ill and tired.

"No post on Sunday's," he'd said with a pleased grin. Well, apparently not to whoever was sending the letters since they suddenly began rocketing out of the kitchen chimney. Harry tried to grab at least one of the letters before Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia noticed, but as he caught some, Uncle Vernon had snatched them, grabbed Harry around the waist, and threw him into the hall, Aunt Petunia and Dudley following after. It really seemed to have been Uncle Vernon's snapping point. He made them pack up immediately, and then basically shoved them in the car before jumping in himself and driving off. He'd even hit Dudley when he was being too slow, which has _never_ happened before. For the rest of the day, they'd driven, never stopping for food or drink, sometimes even doubling back for a ways, Uncle Vernon muttering a "Gotta shake them off, gotta shake them off," each time. Finally, they reached a dingy hotel and rented two rooms, one for Harry and Dudley, and another for Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. Harry didn't think it was possible for Uncle Vernon to lose it any more than that, but apparently he could since the following morning when the receptionist told them Harry had received a letter, he'd immediately carted them off and drove like a mad man. They kept stopping randomly in secluded or obscure places, like the middle of a forest, a suspension bridge, a ploughed field, even the top of a muti-story carpark. Finally, Uncle Vernon stopped the car on a beach and locked the doors, leaving everyone else to wait as fat droplets began falling.

"Mum, it's Monday!" Dudley whined, "I'm going to miss the Great Humberto! I want to stay in a place tonight with a _television_."

Speaking of Mondays, now that Harry thought about it, if Dudley was right (which he usually was about anything pertaining to the television), then tomorrow, Tuesday, was his birthday. He'd finally be eleven. It wasn't as though it was actually really celebrated, but still, you don't turn eleven every day.

"I've found it, the perfect place!" Harry was snapped out of his musings at Uncle Vernon's voice. He was smiling and carrying a long package that he wouldn't explain. "Come on! Everyone out!"

Outside the car, it was cold and wet, and quickly getting even wetter. Uncle Vernon had apparently thought it'd be a good idea to go stay on a rock in the middle of the ocean, and had rented a boat and bought some supplies for the night. He herded everyone onto the boat, Aunt Petunia hugging a shivering Dudley, and Uncle Vernon set sail in the row boat, excluded from the gloomy atmosphere that the other occupants of the boat seemed to have.

After a freezing boat ride, where Harry was certain they'd get hypothermia, they got to the ruddy rock that Uncle Vernon had decided to stay at. The house on it was run down and just plain horrible. It smelled of old seaweed and the wind howled throughout the cracks in the walls, there were leaks in the ceiling and only two rooms in the entire place.

Uncle Vernon's supplies seemed to only consist of crisp packets and four bananas. He tried to use the packets to make a fire, but they only shriveled up. He was still in a good mood though, humming to himself. Harry knew why, he thought no one could get the letter to them now, especially with the storm that was raging outside, and honestly, Harry had to agree with him. Not that it made him happier, the opposite actually.

The storm outside the hut picked up as night fell, waves slamming themselves at the rocks and walls of the hut, rain smashing itself on the roof, and thunder roaring with the occasional snap of lightening. Aunt Petunia had gone into the second room and found some moldy blankets that she used to make a bed for Dudley on the moth eaten couch. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia went to the other room and took the lumpy bed, while Harry got the most ragged and thin blanket on top of the softest bit of floor.

The night was long, extremely so for Harry. He was waiting to turn eleven. He ignored the chill in the air as he laid under his blanket, staring at Dudley's watch. He kept staring, unable to fall asleep. Five minutes to go, he thought he heard something creak. Absently, Harry wondered if the roof would fall in, maybe he'd be warmer then. Four minutes to go. It'd be funny if whoever was writing the letters had ended up filling the entire house on Privet Drive with them, he'd probably be able to steal one then if Uncle Vernon didn't set the place on fire.

Three minutes to go. Was that still the waves slapping the rocks? Must be. Two minutes to go. Are the rocks breaking and falling into the water? What was that crunching noise?

One minute to go and he'd be eleven… Thirty seconds… twenty… Maybe he should wake up Dudley… ten… just to be annoying… five – four – three – two – one…

BOOM!

Harry stared at the door. Someone had just knocked on the door at the end of his countdown. While normally, Harry would find that funny, this was just plain weird if the storm still going on outside meant anything.

BOOM!

The door shook on its' hinges from the knock, Dudley woke up that time, saying something stupid as usual (something about a canon?), and Uncle Vernon ran in holding a gun with Aunt Petunia right behind. Well, that explained the package.

"Don't come in here!" Uncle Vernon shouted, hefting the gun, "I'm armed!"

There was no noise from the other side of the door, when suddenly there was a CRASH! and the door fell forward, off its' hinges. A man who easily dwarfed the tallest people he'd ever seen, stepped through the door.

His shaggy hair meshed into his beard, blurring the edges. Two almost black eyes peered out of the small gap of face that was visible, framed by a pair of bushy eyebrows that were as large as slugs. He trudged over to the couch that Dudley had recently vacated, before sitting down and beaming at Harry, or so Harry supposed seeing as how his eyes crinkled up and there wasn't much else to go by other than that.

"An' here's Harry!" the stranger boomed, "Sure grew up, didn't ya boy? Las' I saw ya was when ya was a wee baby. Ah, yeh look just like yer dad, but yeh got ya mum's eyes, ya do."

Vernon sqeeked, making himself known again. "I demand you leave at once, sir!" he rasped, "You are breaking and entering." He raised the gun again, Harry giving him an alarmed look.

"Ah, shut up Dursley, yah great prune!" Almost lazily, the stranger reached over the couch and grabbed the gun out of Uncle Vernon's grasp. He pulled the ends apart on the gun, and then tied it up like it was rubber or he was a cartoon character, before tossing it aside. The Dursleys backed up, shaking in fear of the large man, who was currently reaching into his coat for something. "Anyway, Harry. Happy birthday to yeh. I got sommtin' here. Jus' gimme a momen'. Might be a bit squished, but should taste jus' fine."

He pulled out a box that was slightly crumpled and handed it to Harry. Harry tentively took it and looked inside. There, was a partially squashed cake with what probably was once neat handwriting saying, **Happy Birthday Harry!** To say the least, Harry was surprised. After all, a complete stranger had just given him more than the Dursley's had ever in the entire time he'd lived with them.

Harry didn't know what to say. First, he tried the standard 'thank you' but his mind and mouth seemed to be on different pages since what came out was "Who are you?"

The stranger didn't seem surprised or angry at all, and instead chuckled, "Dats right, yeh don' remember meh, since yeh was a baby when we met. Ma name's Rubeus Hagrid, and I'm da Keeper of the Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts." He grabbed Harry's hand for a shake, and instead of just the hand it was his whole arm.

"Now how about some tea, eh?" He rubbed his hands together before pointing an umbrella at the grate in the fire place. There was a green spark at the tip of the umbrella, before it jumped into the grate and it began dancing with flames, giving off heat that caressed Harry gently.

The stranger, or Hagrid as he was apparently called, began searching around his coat again, and in a few minutes, he seemed to have found a kettle (apparently filled with water), some tea bags, some sausages, and a small grill. Why he had all those, Harry had no idea. What he did know though, was that the sausages were delicious when they finished cooking and were all given to him, Dudley wasn't allowed by Uncle Vernon, even though he did look quite hungry by the time they were done. As Harry chewed on them, he never took his eyes off of Hargrid, and finally said, "I'm sorry, but I still don't really know who you are."

"Jus' call meh Hagrid, everyone does." He chuckled good naturedly, "An' I'm da keeper of da Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts, which yeh know all about."

"Um, no, not really." Harry confessed.

"Yeh don't know about Hogwarts?" The giant stared at Harry, bug-eyed.

"Sorry?" Harry shifted uncomfortably.

"Sorry? No, yeh shouldn' be sorry fer what they were supposed to tell yeh!" Hagrid was glaring at the Dursleys who were whimpering in the corner of the room. "Why didn't ya tell the boy, ya fat lard?"

"We swore to stomp it out in the boy! There will be no mumbo jumbo coming from him!" Uncle Vernon tried to be strong, but his imitation of a Chihuahua seemed to be stronger.

"Stomp it out?!" Hagrid roared.

"I'm sorry, but what is going on?" Confusion filled Harry.

"What's goin' on is that these muggles think that they can keep a wizard from bein' one," was Hagrids gruff response.

"Muggles?" Harry asked.

"What we call non-magical people."

"Magic? That exists?" Harry hadn't expected this, it was like a dream come true.

"'Course it does, Harry. Didn't yeh ever wonder how your parent's knew all they did? Gone to Hogwarts they did. Were some of the best I ever knew," Hagrid seemed to stare at something fondly for a moment.

"Knew what? What were they best at?" Harry was getting excited, like he was reading a story, and some climatic even was about to happen to the protagonist.

"Then ah'll tell yeh what," Hagrid leaned forward.

"Stop! I forbid you to tell him!" Uncle Vernon shouted. Harry had actually forgotten that the Dursley's were even there, so Hagrid probably had too. That or he didn't care.

"Put a sock in it, Dursley!" Hagrid snapped back before leaning in again. Looks like it was the latter. "A'right Harry, here it is-"

"STOP! I FORBID YOU!" Vernon tried again, his face was going an interesting red color.

"Yer a wizard, Harry," Harry's world seemed to stop.

"I-I'm a what?" Flabbergast, Harry stared at the giant.

"Yer a wizard, Harry. An' a darn good one too, if yer parents are anythin' ta go by." Hagrid looked down, as if saddened by his parent's death. But wait, something didn't add up.

"I'm a wizard?" Harry looked at Hagrid for conformation.

"Aye, an' I reckon it's about time yeh got ta read yer letter." Out of one of the many pockets on his coat, a letter was drawn, identical to the hundreds of others that he'd tried to receive.

Harry stared at it in awe, the letter he'd tried so hard to get was finally in his hands. Opening it, he quickly read it. It was from a lady named McGonagall who was a Deputy Headmistress at the school Hagrid had been talking about. He had a place there? How? When? What? Owl?

Harry finally found his voice after straightening his thoughts a little and asked, "Hagrid, what does it mean 'await my owl'?"

"Oh right. Nearly forgot," Hagrid muttered before reaching deep (deeper than made sense to Harry) into his jacket and searched around for something. After a minute, he pulled out a very ruffled _owl_ and set it on the table. Harry prayed for both his sake and the owl's that it wasn't real, but the swiveling of its' head proved otherwise. Hagrid then rummaged through his pockets a bit more until he finally retracted with a pencil and paper. He scribbled a bit on the paper before tying it onto the surprisingly obedient owl's leg. It even stuck out its' leg to make things easier! Harry watched, mouth agape, as Hagrid meandered to the door with thundering footsteps, opened it, and threw the bird out. He went back and sat on the couch, like he'd just gotten off of the telephone. Harry realized belatedly that his mouth was open and quickly shut it.

"Where were we?" Hagrid asked, offhandedly, like he'd not just chucked an owl into a storm.

"He's not going." Uncle Vernon made a surprisingly bold move of stepping into the firelight, though he still looked like he'd seen a ghost, even if now he seemed angry at it.

"I'd like ta see yeh try, Dursley." Hagrid growled, sounding more like a bear than a man.

"I won't pay for it! We're not having another one in the family! Not like his horrid mother!" Dursley shouted, looking as terrifying as a mouse next to a dragon.

"You _knew_? You knew I'm a – a wizard?" Harry was floored.

" _Knew?_ " Aunt Petunia shrilled, "Of course we knew! Just like your mother. The day we got that cursed letter for her, oh how our parents were so estatic. Lily this, Lily that, oh look at what Lily brought back. They were all so taken with her, but I saw her for what she was. A freak. And then it got worse when she began bringing that Potter boy with them. I thought we were done with them when she went off and married the thing. That was until they got themselves blown up and dumped their brat on us."

"Blown up?" Harry looked nauseous at the thought, "I thought my parents died in a car crash!"

"CAR CRASH! LILY AND JAMES POTTER DIED IN A CAR CRASH?" Hagrid bellowed, rising to his entire giant self, towering menacingly over the Dursleys. "Unbelievable! An outrage! You want ta tell me, that this boy don't even know his own story, when every other kid in the wizardin' world knows who he is?"

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked. So much was happening, maybe too much. His parents were murdered, he was actually magical, and apparently famous too? What was going on?

"Ah didn't expect dis. Dumbledor told me that it'd be hard ta get ta yeh. 'Bout how much yeh didn't know," Hagrid muttered to himself before turning to face Harry, "But someone's gotta tell yeh. Can't have yeh goin' off ter Hogwarts and not knowin'."

"What is it?" Harry felt breathless in his anticipation. Hagrid leaned forward, and began to tell the tale of a dark wizard called he-who-must-not-be-named by those who feared him and a one year old Harry Potter. The tale was dark, and fear inducing, Harry would have passed it as a wives tale, had he not been a part of it and it told in such a hard voice. The tale spoke of how Harry, a mere one year old baby, defeated the most powerful dark wizard, Lord Voldemort, and survived a curse that no one had before. It was the tale of how the Boy-Who-Lived came to be.

Uncle Vernon tried to interject at one point, insulting the wizarding world and Harrys' parents again. Hagrid stopped him after a minute, much to Harrys' relief. Hagrid continued telling Harry about how he'd taken him from the house and how he still believed that _he_ was out there still, somewhere. Harry shivered at the thought. A murderous man out in the world who used magic to kill people did not sound like a good thing.

But in the end, this couldn't be Harry. It was fun imagining he was actually so amazing, but he wasn't. Not really. In the end, he was just Harry Potter, a boy with broken glasses who lived with his horrible aunt and uncle.

"I'm sorry Hagrid," Harry apologized, "I think you have the wrong person. There's no way that I'm a wizard." He glanced up, expecting disappointment.

Hagrid gave him a knowing smile and chuckled a little, catching Harry off guard. "Have yeh ever done somethin' Harry, that yeh couldn't explain? Somethin' happen whenever yeh were feelin' real mad or sad?"

Harry thought about it, when he had been younger and was running from Dudley's gang, he somehow got away almost magically, then there was also the snake. Dudley had hit him and he'd basically set the snake on him in retaliation now that he thought about it.

Hagrid beamed at him through his bushy beard, "See? Harry Potter not a wizard – wait till yeh get ta Howarts and we'll see how you turn out then."

"He will not go!" Uncle Vernon chose to step in then, fighting for his word. "I read one of those letters, talking about all sorts of rubbish - spell books and wands and the sort. Harry will have none of that! He will go to Stonewall High and he'll be greatful for it. If it–"

"If Harry wants ter go, he can! I'd like to see a great muggle like you stop him," Hagrid barked, "He'll be with kids his own age, just like him. Why, seven years from now, he won't be able ta think he's the same person. He'll grow up ta be a famous wizard, one of the best! An' he'll be taut by one of the wizarding world's finest, Hogwart's headmaster Albus Dumbledo-"

"I WILL NOT ALLOW FOR SOMEONE IN MY HOUSE TO BE TAUGHTY SOME CRACKPOT ABOUT MAGIC TRICKS!"

Uncle Vernon seemed to have finally crossed the line with that though, as Hagrid stood to his full height and moved threateningly towards Uncle Vernon. He raised his umbrella above his head and began swinging it "DO – NOT – INSULT – ALBUS – DUMBLEDORE – IN – FRONT – OF – ME!" He roared, ending with a point at Dudley, who had snuck over to the cake and was having some. A green light flared and Dudley yelped. He turned around, holding his butt, and when he did, a small pig tail could be seen poking out of his trousers. Screaming, Aunt Petunia grabbed Dudley and held him to her, as Uncle Vernon began shouting and pushed them all into the other room. When the door closed, only Harry and Hagrid remained in the room, before the fire.

"Hmph, meant ta turn him into a pig," Hagrid huffed as he sat down on the couch again, "guess there wasn't much left ta change."

Harry was caught. He felt like laughing his head off at what just happened, but at the same time he couldn't get rid of his open mouthed shock.

"I'd appreciate it though," Hagrid began, voice low and somewhat embarrassed, "if yeh didn't say I did none of that. I'm not supposed ter use magic after I got to yeh." He scratched his beard as he looked away.

A million questions bounced in Harry's head, so he used one of the most common ones, "Why?"

"Well, I went ter Hogwarts too once, but in my third year I got expelled. They snapped my wand an' I'm not supposed to use magic anymore. Headmaster Dumbledore is a good man though, an' he let me stay on the grounds as the game keeper." Hagrid seemed to brighten at the mention of Dumbledore. Harry was going to ask another question when instead a yawn came out. "I think it's time ta get some sleep." Hagrid chuckled, "We got a long day ahead o' us." He took off his jacket and threw it on Harry, before laying down. "Here, yeh can kip under that fer the night. We'll head out in the mornin'. Happy birthday Harry." And with that, the giant was gone, loud rumbles coming out of his mouth as his snores seemed to shake the ground.

Harry, now much warmer thanks to the fire and jacket, lay down to try and think a little more. Instead, the moment his head touched the ground, his eye lids fell and he too, was fast asleep like the giant on the couch.

The next morning had been interesting. Harry had woken up, thinking everything had been a dream, only to find that there was indeed a sleeping giant on the couch and an owl seemed to be knocking on the window. After letting in the owl, trying to keep if from ripping Hagrid's jacket, finding out you have to _pay_ it with the strangest currency he'd ever seen, and eating some more saugages for breakfast, Hagrid grabbed his coat and stood, holding the newspaper the owl had dropped.

"A'right, time ta get a move on, com'on Harry." Hagrid walked out the door and into the bright sunlight.

Harry got up and walked over to the door. He was about to step through when a thought came to him. When he stepped through this door, his life would change forever. He wouldn't be able to go about life like he had before, everything would be different. Was this really the best choice?

Elephant skin like clothes, kids laughing and whispering, and getting hunted down by Dudley and his gang flashed through his head. Harry smiled. The choice was obvious.

* * *

Allen pulled the hood farther over his head. He was passing by a church, and he thought he'd seen someone with a tan coat go inside. It had been a few weeks since he'd escaped, but the chances of him getting caught were still high, and he'd rather not face the charges set against him.

He passed the church and let out a small sigh of relief, not taking off the hood since he was still in dangerous territory. He walked past a store window filled with televisions on sale, one of which caught his eye. It was playing the news, and it seemed that the local zoo had recently lost its Brazilian boa constrictor.

 _This can't end well._

 ** _"No, it really can't. What were they thinking, letting a boa constrictor out?"_**

Allen flinched at the familiar voice that had thrown him on the run in the first place.

 ** _"Ouch, such a harsh reaction nephew."_**

 _Please stop reminding me we're related._

 ** _"Ooh, how cold of you,_** **dear nephew.** ** _"_**

Allen could hear the smugness in the noah's voice as he said that, and chose to ignore him instead. Allen was shoved a hand into a pocket, when Timcampy made his appearance, flying up in front of Allen.

"Tim!" Allen hissed, "Get back in my pocket, you might be noticed!"

The small golem shined his pointed teeth in retaliation, before turning and racing off. Allen, of course, didn't hesitate to give chase, and was already hot on his heels (or wings in this case). The gold ball flew down an alley way calming Allen slightly since now Timcampy would be harder to see now, but the chance of being cornered was still there. Never caught. Allen would make sure of that.

Timcamy fluttered to a stop atop one of the dustbins in the alley, and as Allen neared it, there was a rustling. A scaled, serpentine head emerged from behind the bin and some bags, before turning towards Allen. Vibrant green stared into mercury silver as Allen met the brazillian boa constrictor escapee face-to-face.

The boa constrictor opened its' mouth, hissing and showing off its' long fangs to threaten Allen. _Well, a boa constrictor threatening me isn't too bad. I've been in worse situations thanks to Cross,_ Allen mused, staring at the fangs without too much caution. _But what to do._

 ** _"You could just kill it and then not have to worry about it or anything."_**

 _Neah, that is beyond rude and absolutely cruel. Why on earth would I want to do that?_

 ** _"Hey, just giving you an idea, nephew."_**

 _Then stop. So far, other than using the ark in our escape, your ideas have been terrible._

 ** _"Ouch, you really know how to verbally abuse a guy nephew."_**

 _Thank Cross,_ Allen then began ignoring the voice in his head, and instead turned to what many would consider an inanimate object and a wild animal. In the back of his mind, he realized that he should be grateful he was so young, otherwise he was sure he'd be considered mental, but that was a thought for a later date.

"So, what to do. I can't leave you here, and you obviously want me to do something about this," he pointed first to the snake, who surprisingly seemed to be listening to him, and then to Timcampy, who nodded in response, "so that just leaves _what_ it is you want me to do. I'm going to assume you don't want to go back to the zoo." The snake hissed quite violently at that, and Allen tensed in case of attack, "Look, I don't want to send you to the zoo," Allen raised his hands in what he hoped would calm the snake and show he meant peace, "I get what it's like to be imprisoned. I don't want you to deal with that too." The snake seemed to relax at that, and watched him. Allen took that as his chance to continue, "I don't know if I can get you there easily, but I can try. But it's only one shot, and I'm not sure I've been to Brazil."

 _Hey Neah, have you been to Brazil?_

 ** _"Maybe, why?"_**

 _I plan to use the Ark to get there._

 ** _"Woah woah woah woah woah. Woah. Slow down a little there, nephew. You want to use the Ark? To save a snake? During an inspection by the Earl and Road? Are you crazy!?"_**

 _Well, I can't use it without being in the piano room, so I'll have to get in there without being caught, plus I'm not sure if I've been in Brazil. Too many rainforests that Cross left me in._

 ** _"For all that's holy, please stop me from killing with this idiot right now,"_** Allen heard the mutter in the back of his mind, a grin fluttering across his face at the other's bending to his will. **_"Fine. I'll help you. Tim's bound to have a recording from Brazil in him, but I'm going to briefly take over."_**

 _What!_

 ** _"Just to open a door straight there! Look, it won't be a full activation or anything, plus the Earl doesn't know I reincarnated, so there shouldn't be any akuma who come. It's like you give me the steering wheel, but you get to keep your feet on the gas and brake, okay?"_**

 _Why are you using a driving reference? I can't drive._

 ** _"Sure you can. You learned how in Hawaii, didn't you?"_**

 _I think you're getting me mixed up with someone else._

 ** _"Whatever, you get the point! Just a moment, I'll open the door, we throw the snake in, destroy it, and then go off on our merry way."_**

 _… Alright, fine. I accept._ Allen nodded to himself, the snake seemed to have gotten a bit closer to him when he was talking to Neah, maybe it thought he'd died or something.

"Tim?" Allen asked after eyeing the snake a little, the little flicker of its tongue seemed to be its own version of a laugh to Allen, with the way it was looking at him. Allen ignored what may or may not be a snake laughing at him, and instead focused on the diligent golem before him, who perked up at the sound of his name. "Do you have any videos of Brazil? Neah needs it since we're going to open an ark gate there." The golem opened his mouth and showed a short video on repeat of a smaller Allen hanging upside down in a bunch of vines and was inches above the ground. "Oh, so it was _that_ time." Allen muttered to himself as he felt his conscious slip to the back of his mind and a new one take his place.

The snake backed away when it felt the chilling change in the boy. Emerald eyes watched as golden ones flashed open, before a smirk played on the lips of the young face. This new being within the body of the boy was dangerous, very dangerous. The smirk twitched slightly, and the danger levels from the boy spiked briefly, before he faced the gold ball with wings. After watching the hovering image for a moment, the snake heard a small chuckle come from the boy, before he turned away and held his arms out, closing his golden orbs after a final glance at the snake. There was a soft humming that entranced the snake, before diamonds of white light rose from the ground and stood, tall enough for a grown man to easily walk through. A soft sigh caught the snakes' attention, as it looked back at the young boy. He had stepped back and was slowly opening his eyes. It held its' breath, waiting to see if gold or silver eyes would meet its' own. Thankfully, they were silver.

"Alright, we have ten seconds before the gate deconstructs, so we have to hurry," Allen (hopefully) informed the snake. He had no idea how Neah had done what he'd done, but that was for later. Opening the Ark had taken energy, more than Allen had expected, not to mention someone might notice the light in the alleyway. He rushed over to the snake, ignoring the small hiss it gave him, before pulling it out. That was probably when Allen noticed just _how_ long it was, which is to say a length that would easily wrap around him many more times than required to strangle a creature. Allen gulped and froze for a moment, before a hiss startled him and got him to keep pulling the snake out. Finally, when the snake was entirely out, Allen had six seconds left, which he honestly didn't think the snake would make it through in that time. Still, he let it slither over to the gate and waited for it to go through. It didn't.

"It goes to Brazil, I swear." Allen said, walking over and picking up sections of the snake. "I would go through first to show you it's safe, but there's no time. Sorry. Have fun being free in Brazil though," Allen gave the snake a final encouraging smile, before he finally picked up the head area and threw the snake through the door. A second later the door crumbled to pieces.

The snake watched as the glowing lights disappeared. The boy had surprising strength since he was able to carry the snake, who knew it was no small weight, and throw him through the door. The snake had actually not doubted that the door went to Brazil, even if it had been worried. No, when it had stopped, it had hoped to thank the boy for giving the final piece of its' freedom. Once the lights were gone, the snake turned away. If it was unable to thank the boy, then so be it. It would just forever remember the two boys who were its' saviors, and tell its' children about the two as well.

Allen grinned at the wall, happy he'd been able to get the snake away. He turned around, ready to take Tim and go back to finding shelter for the night, when he saw a cat sitting where Timcampy had just been, with a tail. Hanging out of its' mouth.

"Tim!" Allen shouted in horror as the cat took off.

After an _hour_ of chasing the cat around, Allen finally caught up to it in the suburbs. He had no idea how to get back to the city or where he would hide, but he could find something. He also guessed that since the cat seemed to be good for more running, it had probably been eyeing all the birds that were flying around, letting Allen catch it. Allen grabbed hold of Timcampys' tail, which was still hanging out of the mouth thankfully, and pulled him out of the cat. Once free, Timcampy flew high into the air and sat on Allens' head, out of the cats' jump height. Allen sighed at the sight, before he looked around, wondering just _why_ there were so many birds here.

Owls. Hundreds of owls were swarming a single house and many seemed to be holding some letters or something similar. Allen watched as they almost seemed to dive bomb the house before letting go of the letter. _How scary,_ Allen commented, before turning to walk away. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw one owl break away from the main group and head for him. Quickly, Timcampy hid in Allens' pocket so neither cat nor owl could get it. The owl stopped in front of Allen, and hesitantly, he reached an arm out. The owl decided that this seemed to be a perfect perch, because it immediately landed on it. Surprised by the sudden weight, Allens' arm almost fell, but he steadied it at the last moment and took the chance to study the owl on his arm. It was a small elf owl, grey feathers all over its' body and bright yellow eyes that gazed back at him. In its' beak was a letter, it looked thick and old, with its' brownish tint and the almost cursive green handwriting on the front where the send address was. There was no stamp, nor was there any return address. The owl seemed to be getting a little impatient, and hopped farther up his arm, waving the letter a bit. Taking the hint, Allen held his other hand out and the letter was neatly dropped into the palm, before the owl rose silently and flew off. Now that he thought of it, Allen didn't think elf owls were native to the land. Shrugging, Allen turned to the letter, Timcampy flying out of his pocket to see what it said.

 ** _Mr. A Walker_**

 ** _Cardboard box_**

 ** _Alley behind the Thistle Owl Bar_**

 ** _Whittle Road_**

 ** _Surrey_**

Allen felt a knot in his gut. That was where he had slept last night. That means he was seen, which wasn't good. He had a feeling though, that the letters would keep coming, if the house he had just looked at was any indication. Opening it, he quickly scanned the paper. It was the same old feeling paper and the green font was the same as the envelope. It was talking about him being a wizard and having been enrolled for some sort of school named Hogwarts. How, Allen had no idea, but what he did know, was that magic was _bad_. He wanted almost nothing to do with it, after what Central did. Unfortunately though, he seemed unable to escape it if those bouts of terror and the strange occurrences that would pop up afterwards were any indication. Still, maybe it'll go away. Someday…

Allen jerked his head at the sound of a car starting, before running away and forgetting about the letter he habitually shoved in his pocket.

...

It had been a few days, maybe four, since Allen had received the curious letter from the owl. Allen was in London, again, and was actually trying to get the funds (aka cheat in poker) for getting off of the island. Unfortunately for him, he had temporarily forgotten how much Lady Luck despised him, leading to his current situation. Running for his life from debt collectors. A usual day for when he was with Cross.

 _Wait! I'm not with Cross anymore!_ Allen realized, shocked he'd thought he was still with the man. He felt imaginary tears fall down his face as he mentally screamed, _This shouldn't be happening!_ He had been so preoccupied by his rants and feeling like he had done this too many times, that he didn't the man who exited the alley in front of him until he hit him. On the ground from the force of the impact, Allen blearily looked up while holding his nose, he wondered just _how_ he'd missed this man. Really, the guy was what, a storey tall at least! Not right! Not human! What's going on!

"'Ello there. What're you in such a rush fer, boy?" The giant leaned down, overshadowing Allen by a mile.

"A-ah, m-my apologies, sir," Allen stuttered as he craned his head back, trying to see the giant's eye behind his bushy hair and beard.

The man started barking, which is what Allen continued to think until he realized that the giant was just laughing. "It's a'right, boy. Must say though, quite the locks yeh've got there."

Allen's hood had fallen down after he'd hit the man, and now showed off his colorless hair like a beacon. Pulling up his hood, Allen darted his eyes around and saw not only the debt collectors approaching (darn, he was sure he'd lost them), but also that a man in a tan coat was watching him very suspiciously. _Great, a finder. Just what I need to add onto my problems_ , Allen wanted to scream about how unfair the world was. But he wouldn't. Not until he was in a safe place. Until then, he was going to hold it in, which wouldn't be too hard since that's what he's done since he could remember. _First things first though, stop ranting to yourself about everything and just run away from the debt collectors._

"Once again sir, my apologies. I'll try to keep a better eye out next time, but I have to go. Goodbye," with that, Allen tried to run around the man and get away. Tried being the key word. Unfortunately, the giant seemed to have a different idea and was holding his shoulder, while the two debt collectors were screaming for the giant to keep holding on to Allen.

"Brat! Give us our money!" one of them shouted.

The giant got on one knee as Allen started to struggle, "Boy, are yeh runnin' from those two muggles?" He stared at Allen in the eye, now holding him with both hands and ignoring the increasing struggles.

"Please sir, let me go." Allen asked as polite as he could, which actually sounded a little desperate seeing how he was still struggling and was starting to get scared of the two men catching him. He didn't need any more traumatizing memories, thank you very much.

"What money are they talkin' 'bout?" the giant interrogated, surprised by how strong the boy was in his struggles.

Allen didn't respond and instead struggled more, noticing the finder was calling someone. In retaliation to his silence, the giant began squeezing his hands and forcing Allen to give some response lest he want his arms broken. "Man I apprenticed to had a lot of debts, they want me to pay for some even though I'm no longer his apprentice really."

The giants' face darkened (at least, it _looked_ like that to Allen, he couldn't really tell from all the hair) and Allen began to feel worried, heck maybe even _scared_ , of the man before him. "Com'ere boy, ah'll run 'em off fer yeh." With that, the man grabbed Allens' hand and reminded him of just how _giant_ the man was, towering over the two debt collectors who had to be at least six foot [little less than 2 meters] tall. "What do yeh think yer doin'?"

"We want the brat to pay our debts," the braver one stepped forward, his partner shaking at the giants' rage.

"Leave 'im alone, unless yeh want me ta teach yeh a lesson." Both men paled at the threat, and with a final glare at Allen, they left him and the giant, who was still holding his hand. After they'd gone around the corner, the giant beamed down at Allen, who was feeling a little unnerved from these changes in events. "There ya go! Now they won't go after yeh no more."

"Thank you, sir." Allen smiled politely, though he was still watching the finder across the street who was still on the phone and was watching them. _Ah, I really should run._

 ** _"Better hurry nephew. I think the finder's planning on coming over once the giant leaves."_**

 _I think so too. I'll make a break for it as soon as the man lets me go and it doesn't seem suspicious._

"Don' call meh sir! Name's Rubeus Hagrid, but just Hagrid will do," the giant beamed down at Allen and finally, _finally_ , let go of Allens' hand.

"Thank you Mr. Hagrid, my name's Allen Walker and it was wonderful meeting you." Allen gave his best 'Thank-you-very-much-even-though-you-didn't-give-me-food' smile.

Hagrid let out his barking laugh one more time before saying, "Was nothin'. Young boy like yeh shouldn' have ta deal with those types." He smiled down at Allen for a moment, before looking at something on the ground. "Ah, did yeh drop that, Allen?"

Allen looked down and saw the letter he'd received laying innocently on the ground. Great, now he remembered about it. A large hand enveloped it and picked it up. Looking up, Allen saw that Hagrid held it in his hand and was looking at it with a grin that almost sparkled.

"Yer going ta Hogwarts, Allen? Blimey, this is amazing! I'm the Keeper of the Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts! I can't wait ta see yeh there, gettin' sorted fer yeh house and all the things you're gonna do there. Didn't think I'd run inta another wizard ta be on the streets like this. Yeh must be from a muggle family, ain't ya? Course yeh are, yer too confused ta be anythin' else. I'll walk yeh home and ah can tell yeh all about the wizarding world!" throughout his speech, Hagrid had grabbed Allen again and seemed intent on not letting him go. Allen didn't know what to do, he'd completely forgotten about the letter and look what it'd done! Gotten him into trouble again! Allen _really_ wanted nothing to do with magic, but he guessed that fate could really care less about what he thinks.

 ** _"You could kill him. That's always an option."_**

 _Shut up Neah! I told you your ideas are terrible!_

 ** _"But nephew-"_**

 _No buts! Just shut up and let me deal with this._

Allen thought about all the places he could go to pretend they were his house and what to do. "Um, yeah. That sounds like a great idea, so I'll lead the way to my house." Allen reached up and took Hagrids' hand off his shoulder, who instead decided to hold Allens' hand. Allen sent a prayer up to any deity willing to listen that he would make it to that Pivot Drive place again. If it was heard, it was obviously ignored seeing how an hour later, Allen was almost no closer to where he wanted to be than when he'd started.

"Allen, where in the world do yeh live?" Hagrid finally broke off from his rant about some game called Quidditch (something about having to ride around on brooms, Allen actually had no idea what he was talking about seeing how he was preoccupied with trying not to be lost and was a little too amused by the fact that witches actually rode on brooms) and looked around, feeling like they'd been there before.

Allen gave a nervous laugh and subtly tried to pull his hand out of the iron grip it was encased in, "It seems I may have gotten a little lost. I'm sorry."

Hagrid laughed good naturedly at that, "A little seems ta be an understatement. It's okay though, ah'll just check on your letter and then get us there."

"No!" Allen panicked, reaching for the letter that Hagrid was now reading. Allen watched as the smile left his face and his eyes darkened.

"Allen, what's the meanin' of this?" Hagrid held onto Allen, making sure the boy couldn't run, because Hagrid knew he could run. Really run. Hagrid knew since when Allen had run into him earlier, he'd nearly knocked Hagrid over! The boy was too small and skinny for it to be because of mass, plus Hagrid was sturdy, like the trees in the Forbidden Forest. Something was wrong with the boy.

"Meaning of what Hagrid?" Allen tried stalling, slowly turning his hand to try and get it out of the grip.

"Cardboard box? Allen, you're sleepin' on the streets!" Hagrid kneeled down and grabbed Allen, before shaking him a little. "Why ain't yeh at home with your mum and dad?"

The worry in Hagrids' eyes were the only reason Allen actually told the truth this time. "I don't have any."

Allen watched as Hagrids' eyes widened before an understanding look came to them. "Well, we can't have yeh stayin' on the streets, now can we?" Allen yelped as he was lifted by the waist and placed on Hagrids' shoulder. "Ah know just who ta take yeh to. Don't worry, Albus Dumbledore is the greatest wizard ever, an' he's also one of the nicest men ah know. He'll get yeh a place ta stay, don't worry."

With that, Hagrid walked off with Allen sitting helplessly on his shoulder. After ten minutes of walking, Hagrid telling Allen about the wizarding world, and Allen looking around slightly paranoid, they arrived at a somewhat rundown looking place. Hagrid set Allen down on the ground finally, and dragged him into the place, much to Allens' dismay since he was planning to escape then. Indoors, the place was bustling with people in all sorts of odd clothing, many with pointed hats, and was quite warm. Allen hadn't expected the place to be so lively because of the outside, but he guessed that he'd have to expect the unexpected from now on if this magic thing wasn't going to leave him alone.

Allen snapped out of his thoughts as Hagrid shouted out a loud, "Professor Dumbledore!"

The man who turned towards them was surrounded by many others, and he had a long white beard that seemed to be tucked into his belt. He also had half-moon spectacles that rested on his crooked nose, in front of a pair of bright, mirth filled eyes. "Good evening Hagrid," his aged voice spoke with playfulness as he put down the tankard he held, "Are you here for Harrys' letter?"

"Yes, sir." Hagrid nodded, and then seemed to remember Allen after he tried twisting his hand in the loosened grip, "Oh also, ah wanted ta introduce you to Allen Walker. He's gonna be a new student at Hogwarts." Hagrid pushed Allen in front of him, and with all the eyes on him Allen tried not to shrink away.

"Pleasure to meet you, sir." Allen bowed slightly in respect. He really wanted to run out of there, but with all the eyes watching and the fact that Hagrid would definitely stop him was making it hard. Plus the smell of food. Actually, that was probably the strongest reason not to since he had yet to eat all day.

"I assume that you have a reason as to why you wished to introduce me to Mr. Walker here." Dumbledore inquired.

"Yes, Professor, yeh see, Allen needs some," Hagrid dropped his voice at this point and murmured, "homing assistance, if yeh know what I mean."

Dumbledore nodded his head once, before he turned to Allen. "Mr. Walker, how about we talk about such matters in a different location?" Allen hesitated, before nodding. It's not like there's too much to lose, besides, the man before him was powerful. Allen felt like he had to stay on his toes, powerful people who could be crafty must always be watched.

"Very well." Dumbledore rose to his feet, placing some strange coins on the counter and then pulled a letter from his robe, "Here you go Hagrid, you may deliver this to Harry if you so wish. Remember though, it will be hard to get to him. I doubt he knows much about the Wizarding world thanks to his relatives. Now, Mr. Walker, would you like to follow me?" Dumbledore walked off, weaving through the people and going to a small staircase nearby.

"Goodbye Allen! See yeh at Hogwarts!" Hagrid called out as Allen followed the Professor. Allen hesitatingly nodded back, he still wanted to run away, but he didn't think he'd have the chance anymore. Dumbledore was waiting on the first step when Allen reached him, before he went up the staircase. Allen climbed up them, right behind Dumbledore, until he got off on one floor and walked down the hallway, not really waiting for Allen, but walking slow enough for Allen to keep up easily. He opened one door and waited for Allen to go in first, before shutting it behind them.

Dumbledore locked the door, when he noticed in the corner of his eye that Allen had tensed. Slowly, Dumbledore unlocked it and left it, watching how Allen relaxed slightly and edged nearer to the door. He sat down on the chair next to the bed, and motioned for the small boy to sit on the bed, but Allen made no move towards either bed or Dumbledore. "Before I give you any, 'housing assistance', I'd like for you to explain the situation more." Silence met his proposal. "Where are your parents?" A shrug. "Do you have a guardian?" A hesitated shake of the head. "Do you have a home?" No answer. More than enough for Dumbledore to understand the situation now. "I know of a place where you may stay, but remember, it can never be your home unless you wish it to be so."

Allen watched the man give him a knowing smile, and his levels of mistrust spiked. "You do not believe me?" Allen shook his head, making sure to keep Dumbledore in sight. "Ah, then perhaps you do not trust me." There was no need to answer that, it was basically a statement. "One needs to trust others Mr. Walker. It will make life far easier if you have those whom you may trust, especially since many only mean well."

Allen couldn't help but snort at that, "Sorry Professor," Allen gave Dumbledore a critical eye, "it's not that I don't believe that everyone is good and trustworthy, it's just that they're not to me." Allen watched the sad look in Dumbledores' eyes grow, wanting to prove that he meant what he'd said.

"Very well, Mr. Walker. I would take you there, but since it is nearing the time for the school year to start, I do believe it would be better for you to stay here. The innkeeper downstairs is willing to give you a room, but for tonight you may stay here." Dumbledore glanced at what may have been a wrist watch, before turning to Allen who was shifting uncomfortably. Quirking an eyebrow, Dumbledore asked, "Is there anything the matter?"

"Umm, well you see sir, I don't think I have any of the money that you use here." Allen looked nervously at his shoes.

"Well, I'm sure you can exchange some of that money in your pocket at Gringotts Bank." Dumbledore chuckled humorously, as Allen blushed and covered the pocket that he'd kept the money in. He jumped when Dumbledore stood and went to the door. "You may go to sleep now, I'm sure you are curious about Diagon Alley and all its' wonders, so you should rest up." He smiled slightly at Allens' mistrustful glance at him, before chuckling at the growl that roared from the reddening boy's stomach. "I will send up food for you, and do not worry about me returning. I have somewhere else I planned to stay for the night, so until you arrive in Hogwarts Mr. Walker."

"Thank you very much and goodbye Professor Dumbledore!" Allen called out before the door shut. He slowly went and checked under the bed before sitting on it, waiting for food. After five minutes, someone knocked on the door and a maid walked in with a large tray of food filled for a grown man, and left completely stumped at how the food disappeared so fast after thirty seconds. After eating a little (though never enough to Allen), he locked the door and pushed the pillow under the covers, messing them up a little, before crawling underneath and going to sleep the moment his head touched the ground, exhausted from the strange and eventful day.

 **-Chapter 2 End-**

 **A/N note:**

Sorry this took so long! I just kinda died at the end of Harry's part... But it's up now! Sorry if there are some weird bits with Allen's part, like the address and Hagrid's reaction, but I was having a little trouble with just... everything I guess. Anyway! I hoped you liked it~! Oof, you guys should thank 4 hour car rides... and Starlight Dragons. She's the main one who can get me in gear. Anyway, till next time~!


	4. Chapter 3

Haha, hi guys. I finally updated, so here it is~! (Don't kill me)

 ** _"Neah"_**

 _"Allen"_

 _Thoughts in general really_

 **Chapter 3: Start**

* * *

Harry had never been to such a strange place before. It was, well, _magical_. Even the way to get there was! Harry had never seen a wall turn into a doorway before, and if that wasn't magic then he didn't know what was. Now, Harry was just trying to keep up with Hagrid's large form as he plowed through the street of Diagon Ally. It was nearly impossible, with all the wizards and witches running around, some with children and some without, and all going about their business. It was so normal and yet so queer at the same time, all of these people that just screamed odd with their appearances. Though, he supposed he was the odd one here, in his, erm, _muggle_ clothing and apparently truly being as famous as Hagrid had said.

Speaking of the giant, he seemed a little green after their trip to Gringotts. Not everyone could deal with the roller coaster of a mine cart, Harry supposed, as he watched in amusement while Hagrid muttered curses under his breath about goblins and their ruddy transportation systems. He also kept patting some pocket in his jacket, that he'd put some packet in. "Hogwart's business," he'd said. If that didn't beg to sniffed at, then Harry must have a bad nose, since it absolutely reeked of curious. But, he'd let it slide. After all, plenty of people have secrets, and he still had tons to do.

"Where to next, Hagrid?" Harry bounced around, he wanted to see _everything!_

"Now, now Harry," Hagrid chuckled, "Slow down a li'le. We still go' plenty o' time ta look around." Hagrid couldn't help but laugh at the boys' glow. It was always refreshing to meet a muggle born and see how they react to the wizarding world, even _if_ they technically weren't and were actually a hero since the age of one.

Harry tried to stop. He really did. But after a minute of waiting for Hagrid to check his list _again_ (honestly, Harry was surprised that he hadn't memorized it already) his eyes caught sight of a bunch of boys with their noses pressed up against a window, looking at a _broom_. Harry didn't know what was funnier, the fact that witches actually rode on brooms, or the fact that boys his age were looking at it like it was the most amazing thing on the earth.

"A'right Harry," Hagrid's rumble startled Harry out of his musing, "Let's go get yer uniform now." And with a strong pat on the back, they were off, heading into a place called Madam Malkin's Robes for all Occasions. As they stood outside the shop, Hagrid clapped a hand onto Harry's shoulder. "Lis'n Harry, mind if I go get a pick-meh-up in the Leaky Cauldron? Ah hate them Gringotts carts. Nasty things they are." Harry weakly nodded back, seeing how he _was_ still a little sick looking.

Entering the store, alone, Harry suddenly felt the weight of his nervousness again now that Hagrid wasn't there to help him anymore. A squat, smiling witch greeted him when he came in. "Hogwarts, dear?" Madam Malkin queried. Harry opened his mouth to reply, but she continued on anyway. "Got the lot here. Another's being fitted right now in fact."

She brought him to the back of the room, where a pale boy was standing on a footstool with another witch pinning the robes on him. Harry stood on the footstool next to him, and let Madam Malkin put a robe over his head before she began pinning it to him.

"Hullo," the pale boy spoke up, "Hogwarts too?"

"Yes," Harry shifted, not entirely used to someone making measurements on him like this.

"My father's in the shop next door buying my books while my mother is getting my wand for me." The boy had a voice that unmistakably spoke of how absolutely _bored_ he was with everything. "After that, we're going to look at racing brooms. I don't know _why_ but apparently first years can't have brooms. Maybe I'll bully father into buying me one anyway and try to smuggle it in somehow."

Harry couldn't help but think that he'd found a thin and blonde version of Dudley right beside him.

"Have _you_ got your own broom?" The boy looked over at Harry, in a dulled sort of curiosity.

"No," Harry replied.

"Play Quidditch at all?"

"No," Harry had never even heard the strange word before.

"Well _I_ do. Father says it's a crime to not. Do you know what house you'll be in?"

"No…" _House?_ This boy kept making Harry feel stupider and stupider the longer the conversation continued.

"Well, no one really knows what house they're going to be in, but I'm probably going to be in Slytherin. Everyone in my family is, so it'd only be natural for me to get in." He sniffed, like he'd smelt something in the air. "Eekgad, look at those two!" he suddenly exclaimed.

Harry turned and looked out the window. There, stood Hagrid, holding two large ice creams to show he couldn't go in, and a boy who looked like he was pretending to be an old man with his hair color, shifting uncomfortably beside him. "That's Hagrid," Harry said, though he had no idea who was next to him.

The conversation then finally took its' inevitable turn for the worse. In fact, it was so bad to Harry that he had to hold a sigh of relief when he was told he could leave, and all but ran out of the store to Hagrid and the boy.

"Harry! Yeh got yer robes, did yeh?" Hagrid beamed and handed over one of the ice creams to Harry. He nodded silently, before looking curiously at the odd boy. "Ah, yous never met him before Harry, but this is Allen! He's in yer grade, an' he don't know too much about the wizardin' world either."

Harry looked at the boy tepidly, after all, his first encounter with a year mate hadn't been the most… enjoyable. This one was far more peculiar than the one he'd just met, Harry had never seen anyone like this boy, and he'd just met goblins less than an hour ago! Smaller than Harry, almost like an eight year old with stark white hair, not really an old man's now that he was closer, but more like snow, and a jagged red mark down the left side of his face that seemed like a fresh scar, especially with how there was a square bandage on his forehead.

The boy merely smiled politely, extending a hand for a curtesy shake, and said, "Allen Walker. It's a pleasure to meet the boy whom Hagrid has told me so much about."

* * *

Allen's day had not started all that well honestly, though it hadn't been the worst wake up he'd had in a while. Sure, staring at the bottom of a bed first thing in the morning isn't the most normal thing, nor was forgetting how low it was until he tried to sit up only to bang his head on it. He yelped and brought his head back down too quick unfortunately, and smacked it on the wood flooring, and yet even after the pain his head was in from all that, it still wasn't the worse way he'd waken up. Interesting things can happen when you apprentice under Cross or are a fugitive of the church. Of course, all this somewhat sardonic thinking was interrupted by the thought of _where the heck am I again?_

 ** _"You're in a wizarding hotel, dear nephew."_** Was the pained response of an oh so familiar voice.

 _"What? Oh right, that Dumbledore guy left me here."_ Allen recalled the night before with a grimace, uncomfortable with the idea of being surrounded by magic. _"Wait, why are you in pain, Neah?"_

 ** _"Because you just smashed our skull into a bed and the floor. You didn't even smash it on the soft part of the bed!"_**

 _"Well I'm sorry for being so tired. Besides, this is my body so I can do what I want with it."_

 ** _"Not if it means we'll be killed or hurt!"_**

 _"Geeze, stop acting like you're my dad."_

 ** _"I'm your uncle, so it's close enough!"_**

 _"No! I refuse to accept this! Lalalalalalala I can't hear you!"_

 ** _"Darn it Allen, listen to me sometimes! Allen!"_**

 _"I can't hear you!"_

 _"Can't you guys be quite in the morning?"_

 _"…"_

 ** _"…"_**

 _"Neah, who was that?"_

 ** _"I dunno."_**

 _"…"_

 ** _"…"_**

 _"Let's pretend none of this happened."_

 ** _"Agreed."_**

Allen finally crawled out from under the bed after a cursory glance of the room to see whether the coast was clear or not. He made sure the lock on the door had not been tampered with, before deciding a quick wash up and work out was acceptable. Getting into a one-handed handstand, he began his one hundred push-ups. After successfully completing it for both arms, a hundred upside-down sit-ups performed from a chair he'd anchored to the ground with the bed (don't ask how), and a hundred squats, he went into the washroom to clean up, deciding he'd done enough for now and would do his run later in the day when he would escape this wizarding world, not that he was sure he could (wouldn't know unless you tried, right?).

Clean for the first time in who knows _how_ long (stopping to take a bath while running for your life didn't seem very practical. Plus pretending to be a street waif had its advantages, made you almost invisible) Allen walked into the room, putting a bandage over the star part of his scar since he didn't need to be associated with some satanic group just yet, and noticed the single window by the desk. Looking out of it, he saw hundreds of people walking about in the strangest assortment of clothes Allen had ever seen (and that was actually saying something seeing how many places Cross had dragged him to). He also noticed a small letter with flowing script on the desk, his name neatly written on it. Picking it up, he saw a wax seal on the back again, and an odd imprint on it of a capital 'D' surrounded by thorny vines. Picking away the seal, he read the hurriedly written letter addressed to him. Putting it down, Allen sighed. Cutting away all of the flowery work with the words, when you got down to basics, this Dumbledore guy was basically telling Allen there was no point in running and that food was ready downstairs. Since there was food ready, Allen decided it might be worth going downstairs for the grub and then plan what to do afterwards.

Opening the door carefully to try and minimize the noise (a little hard with a creaky door), Allen looked for any other hall residents and found none. Taking this as a sign, good or bad, Allen walked out and began his trek of finding the stairs going downwards. After ten minutes, in which he swore he'd passed the room he'd slept in at least once, before he'd found the stairs.

 ** _"You really should learn to thank me more, nephew."_**

Allen sighed _"Yes, yes, thank you Neah, you did a good job."_

 ** _"Oi, oi. Why are you treating me like a little kid? You're the kid here."_**

 _"Wow Neah, I never noticed that before."_

 ** _"Why you little…"_**

Allen ignored the cursing voice in his head in favor for the sweet smell of delicious food. His stomach growled before he could stop it, and he heard a light giggle. Turning a little to the left, stood one of the barmaids who was looking at Allen with a knowing smile.

"I assume ya the Mister Walker we was told ta keep an eye out for." she asked rhetorically, already knowing it was him.

"Well, I don't know about being told to have an eye on me, but my last name is Walker, though I'd prefer if you called me Allen, ma'am." Allen smiled politely back, though on the inside he panicked at the thought of being under surveillance.

She snorted a little. "Quite the polite mouth ya got there. Come'on hun, you sounded pretty hungry a moment a go, let's get ya some grub." She walked towards the counter, and for a brief moment Allen thought of running right then, but the promise of food swayed him and he soon found himself scurrying after her.

She stepped behind the counter, bending over to collect something while Allen hopped up onto a barstool that was almost neck, maybe head height. He watched from his seat as she walked around, collecting the plate and food before she put it in front of him. "There ya go, luv." She smiled kindly.

When she turned to get him a glass of water, Allen inhaled the food. He was _starving_ , and it honestly wasn't far from the truth. A child as a street performer could only gain so much money, especially if they're constantly on the run and avoiding over populated areas as much as possible. So saying Allen, who ate at least four adult sized dishes per meal, was starving after barely being able to get one or two per day for the last month was in fact, very true and realistic. Ah the joys of having a parasitic innocence that fed off your life.

"Whoa, where'd your food go hun?" The barmaid placed the glass in front of Allen and picked up his empty plate.

"I ate it," Allen replied sheepishly, blushing harder when his stomach rumbled again.

"An' ya still hungry, huh?" She raised her eyebrow at the small boy before her.

"I have a really fast metabolism and I haven't been able to really eat for a while." Allen shrugged and looked away, feeling a little bad about somewhat lying to a nice lady.

"A'right. Well, we still got some food ya can eat, plus good ol' Dumbledore gave plenty o' money for ya food." She turned away and began filling the plate up again with food. This time when she handed him the food, she watched to see what happened, and was both amazed and disgusted by the small boy. "I don' understand how you fit all that in so fast, magic or not. Ya sure ya human?" She laughed at the uncomfortable look on his face. "It's a'right, hun. I'm just pullin' ya leg." She cleaned up his food and heard a call from elsewhere in the mess hall. "I'll be right back, hun, We'll chat a little more about how much ya can eat." And then she walked off.

Allen watched her leave, before jumping off his barstool. Sure, he was still hungry, starving actually, but he had to go. Being watched and surrounded by magic never ended well for him, and Allen didn't feel the need to specifically evoke the wrath of any god by waiting around. Unfortunately, Allen forgot how much Lady Luck hated him, and just as he'd reached the door, a hand appeared on his shoulder.

"An' where do ya think ya're goin'?" the nice voice seemed a little more cold this time. The hand deftly turned Allen away from the door and back to the bar, where he was sat back on a stool. "Didn't ya ma and pa teach ya it's rude ta leave a girl waitin'?" the maid huffed as she walked back behind the bar.

Allen shrugged, embarrassed at being caught trying to escape.

She sighed before giving him a small smile. "Ya can leave soon, don't worry. Ya don't know too much abou' the Wizarding world, right?" Allen shook his head in conformation. "Well, once Hagrid gets here, ya can go check out the Alley as much as ya want. I'm guessin' ya real excited, being ya first time at the Alley."

Allen laughed with her, though the thought of being surrounded by magic didn't sit too well with him. He held back a flinch when the maid pulled out her wand and brought a tankard to her.

"Magic's pretty useful, though I must say that tongue of yours might land ya more girls than a load of magic would." She laughed again at the joke as she filled up the tankard, trying to relax Allen a little. Allen was about to reply, when the door boomed open again and a familiar giant walked through, walking over to the bar.

"One tankard of Butterbeer," he ordered, placing some coins on the counter.

The maid snorted at his manners, "Can't even say please, can ya? Maybe ya should take lessons from the little sir here on how ta talk ta others." She laughed as she filled up a tankard and gave it to Hagrid, who was looking at Allen.

"Allen! How're yeh doin'?" Hagrid clapped Allen on the back, though it felt a little bit like he'd fallen on the ground and got the wind knocked out of him.

"I-I'm fine, Mr. Hagrid." Allen replied, still trying to get that last bit of air back in his chest.

"Ah, don't call meh Mr. Hagrid. Makes meh feel old." Hagrid laughed.

"Ya _are_ old, Hagrid." The maid snickered as she worked behind the bar.

"Ah'm not that old!" Hagrid complained, "Do yeh see a silver hair on meh head?"

Allen sat, politely smiling as the duo bickered like old companions. Their fight had to wait though, as the maid was called away. "Tell me all about ya day, a'right hun?" She told Allen with a wink as she walked off.

Hagrid finished off his drink before turning back to Allen. "Are yeh ready ta go, Allen? I'm with another boy taday. His name's Harry, Harry Potter to be exact!" Hagrid seemed to expect some other reaction than the smile Allen had on his face, since he seemed to deflate a little before realizing something. "Ah! Ah forgot yeh've never even heard of the Wizardin' World till yesterday. Let me tell yeh about Harry, he's a real swell boy, very nice. I knew his mum and dad, they were real nice an' one o' the best wizards and witches I know. Was a shame when they died, yeh see…"

Allen listened as Hagrid told him about the war, who Lily and James Potter were, and how their son, Harry Potter, became the most famous wizard ever in one night at the age of one. All this time, Hagrid had dragged Allen out of the Leaky Cauldron and into the Alley, where Allen stayed very close to Hagrid even though he wanted to look at every shop. Hey, magic may mean bad news for Allen usually, but that didn't mean it wasn't interesting. What was _always_ bad news for Allen though, were confusing areas, which happened to fit Diagon Alley to the T. He didn't need to get lost in an area that he had no expertise in survival at all, thank you very much. He was going to stand by Hagrid and hope he never has to come again on his own.

After about ten minutes of hearing Hagrid ramble about the wizarding world and this Harry person, and then buying some ice cream that Allen quickly finished off, they stood outside a robe store. Allen looked around with some worry of being in a crowded street filled with magic as they waited for something.

"We can come back fer yeh robes another day, Allen. For now, we'll just pick up Harry and get yer wands and a couple of other things." Hagrid explained before smiling into the store at a brown haired boy who was looking back and seemed to be talking with a platinum blonde one. After another minute or so of the brunette looking increasingly unhappy, he left the store, practically running, before coming out.

Allen smiled politely to the boy as Hagrid did a quick introduction. _I wonder if this boy is similar to me._ He gave Harry a quick look over. _No, but maybe one day, we'll be the same._ He noticed how the other looked him up and down in curiosity and also apprehension at meeting someone else, so he took it upon himself to lead the way to communication.

"Allen Walker, it's a pleasure to meet the boy whom Hagrid has told me so much about."

* * *

"Harry Potter," Harry grinned at Allen, feeling more comfortable now, before scratching his head in embarrassment, "Hagrid's told you about me?"

Allen laughed good naturedly, "A little. Apparently I needed to know how much of a scandal it was to keep the apparent savior of the wizarding world from knowing his family history and all." Hagrid at least had the decency to blush at Allen's comment.

"Now, now," he rumbled before putting a hand behind Allen and giving him a small push. "Let's go get yer parchment an' quills."

Harry nodded while Allen frowned uncertainly. "But Hagrid, I don't have any money to buy anything." He said, worry coating his tone.

"You don't have any money?" Harry turned to the boy, baffled, "What about your parents, won't they give you any?"

Allen shook his head in response, "I don't have any parents. I can make my own usually, but I'm not sure if it would work as well with wizards." He bit his lip in worry, before a giant hand covered all his hair and ruffled it.

"Dun worry, Allen. Professor Dumbledore gave meh some money fer yeh. Said yeh can pay him back another time." Hagrid boomed, laughing at Allen's disgruntled look before taking his hand off the small boy's head.

They began walking to the store, and Harry couldn't help but wonder, _Is he just like me?_ What he asked though, was "What do you mean 'make your own money'?"

Allen looked over and smiled politely again. "I know how to perform as a street clown, so I usually do performances when I need some money."

 ** _"Don't forget gambling and stealing dear Nephew,"_**

 _"Shut up, they don't need to know that. Also, dumpster diving and finding money on the ground is not stealing."_

 ** _"Of course it's not stealing when the lady had just dropped the money."_**

 _"I tried to catch up with her! Not my fault she had ridiculously long legs."_

 ** _"Face it, Nephew. You're short for your age. Even that Harry kid is taller than you."_**

 _"Shut up! This has nothing to do with my height!"_

"Really! You can perform as a street clown?" Allen ignored Neah's **_"ooh, touchy subject much?"_** and instead focused on the current conversation not going on in his head. ( _Man, does that make him sound mental._ _ **"You don't know half of it, Nephew."**_ _"For the last time, shut up Neah!")_

"Yeah, my adoptive father had taught me how to be one when I lived with him." Allen smiled at the bedazzled look the taller ( _Not by much!_ _ **"Suuure."**_ ) boy gave him.

"Do you know how to juggle?" The brunette asked.

Allen almost felt affronted by that question. "Of course! Juggling is basic knowledge and one of the first things Mana taught me." To demonstrate so, Allen used his sleight of hand he'd perfected _only_ for being a clown ( ** _"Yeah right. I know you use it to cheat"_** _"Quiet Neah. No one wants to hear you talk."_ _ **"You're the only one who**_ **can** ** _-"_** ) and pulled out three small stones which he began juggling with one hand alone. "If you want me to juggle anything else, just toss it to me. Anything at all really, unless it's alive. I don't juggle live things. Too annoying and wriggly to do it efficiently."

Harry stared in awe at the strange boy before him, easily sending the stones in a circle with one hand while Harry could only hope to be able to do that with only two stones and both hands! And he said he can juggle more! "Wait, who's Mana?" Harry asked in confusion at the name, before getting excited, "Can he teach me how to juggle?"

Allen's smile suddenly looked a little strained. "Mana was my adoptive father. And no, he can't." The crisp reply threw Harry off, making him hesitate before asking his next question.

"Why not?"

The hurt look flashed by so quickly that Harry wasn't sure it was there. "He's dead." Was the short reply.

"I'm sorry," Harry mumbled, no longer able to look at the other.

"It's okay, you didn't know." Allen laughed it off. He was then chocked as a bushy beard and arms the size of pigs began crushing him.

"Allen! Yeh poor thing! Ah had no idea that yeh were goin' through so much!" Hagrid sobbed, catching the unwanted attention of many passing witches and wizards.

"Um, Hagrid? Allen can't breathe," Harry commented, watching the poor boy try to tap out. He was gasping for air when finally released as Hagrid apologized for getting carried away.

Once he was done, the polite smile was back "Don't worry about it Hagrid. Though, I'd prefer if you both don't tell too many of my situation. Not the nicest thing to have common knowledge, you know?" Allen ended sheepishly, scratching the back of his head.

Hagrid and Harry immediately nodded. "Just sayin' Allen, yeh could make quite a bit o' money with them tricks of yers. Even we Wizards enjoy a good show," Hagrid rumbled, ruffling the smaller boy's head again.

They'd finally arrived at the store and bought their quills, when Harry remembered a question he'd had. "Hagrid, what's Quidditch?"

"Gosh Harry, I keep fergettin yeh don't know anything about the wizarding world," Hagrid exclaimed, missing the confused tilt of Allen's head.

"Don't remind me about it," Harry then proceeded to tell Hagrid and Allen about the boy that he'd met in Madam Malkin's. Hagrid tried to cheer Harry up, saying that's because the boy didn't know who Harry was and that's why he was so rude, but it didn't really help much. In fact, it kind of made him feel _worse_ , since if he's a famous wizard shouldn't he know all this stuff already then?

"Harry," Allen spoke up, "people have different ideas, but I think that it doesn't matter what kind of past you have, as long as you take whatever future chances you have and walk forward."

Harry smiled at that, happy to finally be treated like a normal person again and seeing the reassurance in both Hagrid's and Allen's words. All of them smiling, they entered Ollivanders and were hit by an old wood smell, not to different from a forest, plus the sight of rows upon rows of shelves filled with small thin boxes. Hagrid handed Allen some money with a grin, before going off and saying he'd be back soon and to have fun in the shop.

The two boys looked at each other, before shrugging and stepping forward. They were about to explore what seemed to be an uncharted store when a coughing began to their left. Jumping, they both turned, Allen in a slightly more defensive way and edged a little in front of Harry, to see an old man hobbling towards them. Relaxing, they both looked at each other in confusion before looking back at the man.

"Are you here for your wands?" He asked, looking them over. They both nodded in conformation as he went over to a desk, pulling out a measuring tape. "Which of you will be first?"

Harry and Allen looked at each other, uncertain about who should go first. Allen, seeing how hesitant and worried Harry was, decided he should step forward. "I'll go first, Mr. Ollivander." He smiled.

Ollivander nodded and moved forward, raising the tape measure. "Which arm is your arm wand?"

"My what?" Allen and Harry stared dumbfounded.

"You're arm wand, the arm you use most," Ollivander explained quickly.

"Oh, sorry. I'm ambidexterous," Allen replied sheepishly.

Ollivander looked a little surprised before nodding to himself. "Alright, hold out both of your arms then." He commanded, using the tape measure already to check the lengths of Allen's arms. After Allen had raised both arms, Ollivander began muttering to himself and went off, leaving the tape measure there… still measuring Allen! Both Harry and Allen gave a double check on that, and yes, the tape measure was acting as though someone was holding it up and measuring Allen still, taking note of how tall he was, width, everything basically. Harry noticed Allen had stiffened oddly, like he was uncomfortable next to the magical tape measure. Harry wondered what that was about, and was going to ask when Ollivander returned, holding some boxes and pulling out a stick.

"Try this one," he said, giving it to Allen. Allen took it in his left hand and stared at Ollivander, who stared back. After a moment, Ollivander asked "Well? Give it a swish!" Allen, a little confused, did so and jumped in shock from the pot that broke. Ollivander took it back with a mutter and grabbed another wand, placing it into Allen's hand. Hesitantly, Allen waved it a little and small ball of fire came out and ran down it. Ollivander quickly put it out before anyone was burned, and gave Allen a new wand. This happened around ten more times, and both Allen and Harry wondered whether or not Allen would be able to find a wand. Finally, Ollivander seemed to think of a wand that he could give to the poor boy, and hurried off deep into the abyss of a store. When he came out, he had a box in his hand. Taking the wand out, he handed it over to Allen without a word, and immediately Allen's left hand began to feel warm and he swore he could hear piano notes playing.

"Nine and a half inches, Yew, which is known for being either extremely protective or horribly evil." He paused and looked at Allen wearily before saying. "Thestral tail hair. The only other wand which has a Thestral hair in it is the Elder wand. A wand, with the affinity for death. I hope one as young as you would not have to deal with the matters of death too much."

Allen gave a small, sad smile, as though the thought of death was one he was well acquainted with. Harry couldn't help but wonder what type of person Allen really was.

"Your turn, Mr. Potter." Harry snapped out of his musing and stepped forward with a deep breath and a reassuring smile from Allen. Once again, Ollivander left the tape measure to float and make whatever markings it had to for Harry. After about ten wands that he'd waved and much more damage to the shop than had been done before, Ollivander got the same odd glint he'd given Allen and disappeared down an aisle. Upon return, he handed Harry a wand and waited. As Harry held the wand, a warm breeze seemed to blow past him, making his scar feel as though it was heating up.

"Eleven inches, Holly with a Phoenix feather core." He gave Harry an odd look as well. "This wand is peculiar, as when it was made, the phoenix that gave the feather had in fact given two, which made a different wand. And the brother of this wand gave you that scar on your forehead."

 _"Almost like they were destined, huh?"_

 ** _"Looks like God let us meet another interesting person, huh nephew?"_**

 _"Sure, if God actually existed."_

Neah sighed. **_"Right, I'm talking to the non-believer here."_**

 _"Please, you don't believe in him either."_

Allen could feel the grin spread across the Noah's face, even though he refused to look at the window's reflection. **_"You know me so well dear nephew."_**

"That will be seven Gallions for each of the wands." Ollivander's voice brought Allen back to the present. Opening the small bag that Hagrid had given him, Allen looked at all the coins.

"Uhhh, Harry? Which one's a Gallion?" Allen looked at Harry in complete confusion, who was looking fairly confused himself and pointed out the gold coin.

"I'm pretty sure these are Gallions." Harry and Allen then counted out seven and handed them over to Ollivander.

Ollivander watched the duo walk out of the shop, and couldn't help but wonder who exactly he'd just given wands to.

Outside, the two boys stood and looked around. They didn't actually know what to do, and were about to try and go find the pet store when a loud "Harry! Allen!" boomed to their right. Turning, they saw Hagrid holding two cages, one with a snowy owl, and the other with a barn.

"Happy birthday Harry!" Hagrid handed over the snowy owl to the brunette, enjoying the smile the boy gave him in return. "An' this one's fer yeh, Allen. Welcome ta the Wizarding World!"

Accepting the barn owl, Allen stared at Hagrid in shock. "But I can't accept this from you! I didn't pay for it or anything and-"

Hagrid stopped the rant by holding up his hand. "I wanted ta get yeh a gift ter help yeh into the Wizarding World. That's all there is to it."

Allen was about to say something, when a golden golem popped out of his coat pocket. "Tim!" Hagrid and Harry stared slack jawed as the small golden object flew and landed on the cage. He and the owl seemed to stare at each other for a moment before Tim opened his mouth showing his teeth and the owl opened its' beak threateningly. After a second of this, they both stopped and Tim sat atop the cage contently, accepting the new family member. Seeing this, Allen sighed. "Since you accept him, I guess I'll have to as well, huh Tim?" Allen gave a wry smile as the golem showed his teeth again.

"What is that!" Harry asked.

"Hmm? Oh, this is Tim, he's my golem." Allen replied sheepishly.

"Ah thought yeh never been near magic before Allen! That looks just like a snitch it does!" Hagrid exclaimed.

"I have no idea what a snitch is, but _I've_ never been near magic until recently, but my master, whom I apprenticed to, practiced it at some point of his life. He gave me Tim for safe keeping, so Tim, can you go back into my pocket before a cat eats you again? Please?" Allen ended up with begging the small golem before he just opened the cage and Tim instead went inside there and sat next to the owl.

"Alright then," Harry said, just deciding to go with it, "Where to next Hagrid?"

And so the rest of the day composed of gaining the rest of their stuff, though Allen still lacked his robes. Though neither boy knew, the owl Allen had was taking note of all of their actions. _Looks like I've found those two boys Grandfather met when they were babies, huh? Looks like life just got interesting._

 **Chapter 3 – end**

* * *

*laughs* Hey everyone! It's been a while huh? Well, just to let you all know, I'm not dead (even though this is kind or late) and I swear to god if you kill me you won't know what happens in the future. *hides behind a wall to avoid any deadly projectiles*

Also, thank you for all who reviewed and followed and favorited, special shout out to Aquavenn and Liketolaugh for helping me with the wood for Allen's wand (you all have no idea how freaking long I spent trying to figure out what kind of wood to give him* so thank you two very much! Your inputs really helped me, I swear! Also, if you want some good stories, go check out their profiles! Thanks again everyone!

Also, anyone wanna guess who stopped Allen and Neah? It's kinda obvious, but still, anyone? Also that Owl thing at the end, yeah, not too sure where it came from, but don't be surprised if I make some omakes/shorts featuring him!


End file.
